


The Lair of the Wendigo

by DaliahSilva



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Beauty and the Beast Elements, Character Death, Child Abuse, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content (eventually), Fantasy World, I am still the world's most slowest writer, Kidnapping/Imprisonment, M/M, Man/Wendigo Relationship, Mentions of Post Natal Depression, The Shape of Water (Film), Wendigo Hannibal Lecter, Wendigo myth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 06:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16080692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaliahSilva/pseuds/DaliahSilva
Summary: Once upon a time, in the village Maryland. A Wendigo is born.How did it come to be you ask?Well, through love.But why?Well come along then....come along...Let me show you...





	The Lair of the Wendigo

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a bit of an out of the blue one for me. I tried to put it off until I do more work on my other stories, but it literally would not leave me alone. Wrote it soon after watching 'The Shape of Water' so definite influence there. If you don't like the whole man/beast relationship I suggest you don't read this, it will get explicit eventually.  
> As usual, I read a lot of Hannigram fics so if there are any similarities, I don't mean to copy you. This story is written of my own thoughts and ideas.  
> Comments and feedback are the food for writing. Please let me know what you think. Trollers are not welcome.  
> I have edited this fic myself.

 

 

_It happened once upon a time..._

_A tale you can't quite define..._

_The birth of the Wendigo._

 

**Chapter One: Egg**

 

 

Once upon a time, in the village Maryland. A Wendigo is born.

How did it come to be you ask?

Well, through love.

But why?

Well come along then....come along...

Let me show you...

 

 

 

The true origins of Maryland village have long since been forgotten, and replaced with stories of a rich man's ultimate landed gift to his beloved. It is quite frankly, a remote village. Dreadfully cold in the winter, and to be frank, even in the summer. It sits on the outer rim of a massive wood. But since the recent appointment of Cade Purnell as Mayor, the remote village has begun to prosper and become well known, expanding its resources, trading, and dealings with other villages, and bigger towns, earning farmsteads of its own in the process. Maryland soon expands into the woods beside it, which ends up surrounding the village almost entirely.

The village in itself is like most villages in stories such as this. Quaint and rustic, but homey, and full of life. But also like most, it is shadowed by superstition, and the fear of monsters lurking and attacking in the dark.

But that shall be further explained in good time.

Mayor Purnell is not a bad mayor. A steely eyed gentleman, with professional efficiency and a stiff back, he holds no regard for the personal afflictions of the village folk. He is harsh, but decently fair enough to garner the joint wariness and respect of the villagers, and avoid mutiny. It is his wife rather, a Mrs. Purnell, to whom most villagers care to avoid entirely. She has a lashing tongue and no mind for what she terms as 'nonsense'. Mrs. Purnell will run readily to her husband in a seconds notice with evidence of this misdeed and that. One of the annoying busybody hens of the town.

Whom you would call the 'second in command' is the gruff and enforcing man by the name of Mr. Jack Crawford, settling in as a type of 'sheriff' of the village. It is often said that his booming voice can be heard from over one side of the village to the other. An opposing figure to be sure, he has sent back home many a young rascal to tears, apologizing profusely to their folks for their rambunctiousness. But his is a kind type of gruffness, and his sense of duty and justice keep the village in line. A firm temperament very much balanced by his beautiful wife, the Mrs Bella Crawford. Elegant and filled to the brim with compassion, she can sooth even the worst hurt with a tiny smile. It is of no surprise then when I tell you that she is one of the best village nurses in the county. Seen often in attendance with a Dr. Donald Sutcliffe, the village healer.

Also at home in the village, is the lovely school teacher Miss Alana Bloom. The envy of every woman and the desire of every man there. Her raven hair frames a strong but delicate face and expressive eyes. She too has earnt the respect and good opinions of the village folk, despite being a full woman grown and still unmarried. Instead, she takes up vows to her student children, devoting much time and energy to them. Becoming a type of governess to the girls, and a second mother to the boys. Her education has been extensive, being the daughter of a distant Duke, so she is quite knowledgeable on most things. Often, it is a mystery as to why then she would settle down in such a quiet remote village, but it is never complained about nor discussed openly.

Ah, but with every village there is a dark spot, as is with every basket of fruit a rotten apple. This one is in the form of the village holy man. Mr Mason Verger. A true patron of the 'light and holiness'. In truth, he is a sour man, weedy and slick. His almost manic obsession with the faith he says he has gained from 'The Great City' beyond the village, self entitling him to ensure that his word is 'law'. He takes great pleasure in scaring the young and old alike on what awaits them in the fiery and tortured pains of the darkest hell, should they not listen to his holy words and followings. His favorite spoken sermon likens men to that of pigs, wallowing in their sinful swill. Most feel sorry for his quiet and secluded wife, Mrs. Margot Verger. Rarely seen, except at Sunday worship in the holy chapel, she too is often the topic of discussion as to how a man like Mr. Mason, has acquired her as his wife. Most surmise that it was due to an arranged marriage made in childhood, as some folks still do. All pity her. If Mr. Crawford is the man the children are wary of, Mr. Mason is the one they immediately scarper from upon sight. Mr. Mason especially seems to hold an instant dislike towards the young William Graham.

Now, we can happily introduce ourselves to the young boy with whom this story involves.

Let us first take a look at the young, slight boy of eight winters, with beautiful cerulean blue eyes and wild curly brown hair. Mr. William Graham, or Will as he is often called, is what one might identify as the unusual child. Nothing to note of at first glance, he has no outstanding deformities or learning impediments, besides being rather shy of personality, and yet quite mature for his age at the same time. It is some unknown sense, some strange inner gut feeling that makes Will the outcast of the village children, and therefore, shunned by most. A case of 'one of these things is not like the other, one of these things doesn't belong.' This of course, is quite unfair to the boy who is both an inquisitive and sharp mind, but also sweet in nature and accepting of all others. What does not help is his absent mother. Being motherless, an age old reason for torment and nasty teasing.

Will's mother had taken her own life shortly after his birth. Almost a century later, it would be understood that she had suffered from post-natal depression, but to this day and age, her death is instead gossiped about and explained by rumors. The true contributing factor was stress due to an alcoholic husband, judgmental village folk, and a very sensitive baby, the latter whom could be set off to cry constantly from every little outside influence. Some say she simply died of natural causes, that is the light rumor. Some say she had died due to the birth of Will, that is the bad rumor. Some whisper that Will's father had murdered her, that being the worst rumor.

Will's father is the village drunk, a Mr. Grant Graham. A rough and square jawed man. Incapable in truth, of murdering his wife, but often seen in an unpleasant manner, with a nightcap in his hand, and dogs surrounding his feet. His official job is the village huntsman, together with a Mr. Garett Jacob Hobbs. Abigail, Mr. Hobb's daughter, often plays with Will and remains to the very end, his best friend. Mr. Hobbs would often take Abigail with him when he went hunting for small game, or when checking the traps in the wood, much to Mrs. Hobbs chagrin. Abigail would in a few years, take up the job of huntsman together with her father, much to everyone's surprise at her skillful aptitude in hunting. Still an unheard of thing among woman folk. Will sometimes goes with them into the woods. Though not by the invitation of his own father. Will's intellect in his youth ensuring his partiality to books and learning, rather than 'men's work'. Which results in his fathers rude negligence. Things improved slightly only when it was discovered that Will had a penchant for the dogs. The dogs aiding Mr. Graham and Mr. Hobbs in hunting and tracking, and it was soon discovered that they obeyed Will more often than Mr. Graham. Will is often seen crouched down and rough housing with them, though one soft spoken word has them at heel, following after him like little chicks. Still rather neglectful, Mr. Graham's sole bond with his son involves teaching Will how to fix things and train dogs. But Will is hardly bereft from it. It is preferable to the cursing and drunken beatings Mr. Graham dolls out here and there.

But have no fear, Will's life is not all bleak. As well as his dogs he has his friends. A small group, but as solid as any childhood friendships could be. There is the sweet Molly. A jolly girl, plump in her youth, and the daughter of the herb sellers Mr. and Mrs. Foster. Then besides the opinionated Abigail, there are also the twins, Brian and Jimmy. Though not the same physically, they are what one would call identically different. In one sentence they can both argue with each other and agree, finishing each others sentences back and forth. It is both a great source of amusement and annoyance to the group. Their mother, Mrs. Beverley Katz, is the sum of all mothers. Both caring with one hand, and ready to scold and cuff a disobedient child with the other. Will is treated all the same as her own two troublemakers, and has many a cuff off of Mrs. Katz, or Mam Bev as she is called, to his name. Mam Bev also has a penchant for baking and experimentation, to the exasperation of a very tolerant Mr. Katz. It became a game of the children to try out a new creation of Mam Bev's, on a percentage of fifty fifty that it would be inedible. Now if Mam Bev is his mother guide, Mrs. Crawford is his mother hen. Having no children of her own under suspect of the curse of a barren womb, she dotes on Will fondly. Soothing his tears made from other kids, fixing his hurts, and making sure he has proper fitting clothes and shoes for every season. Just from walking towards her she can tell if he needs new....ah hem...unmentionables....

Suffice to say Will's life, despite his rough birth parentage, is a decent one.

But we all know life has a habit of shaking apart the decent and good.

We move back now to the wood surrounding the village.

Wolf Trap Wood.

Why Wolf Trap Wood you ask? Well, because of the wolves.

Soon after the village expands further into the wood rather than rest on the rim of it, wolves start to attack livestock and are a threat to the children. So the fearless huntsmen Mr. Graham and Mr. Hobbs, lay traps all around the village to keep the wolves out. Hence the namesake originates. A new trade also arises in the escorting of the villagers needing to enter the wood to gather supplies, like the herb gatherers, and others needing to leave the village through the wood by the dirt road, and travel to the nearest town stead three kilometers away for trade. So Mr. Graham starts to breed more dogs and is made escort of the villagers, which suits him well. He can drink while the dogs make sure all is well, and warn him of any threat approaching. The only present Mr. Graham ever give his son is a small puppy mutt, bred for Will to train as his main companion. Will names him Winston after a story he once read in a book.

Will, like much of the other children likes to play 'chicken' on the woods edge. Turning their backs to it in excited fear, and seeing who can last the longest in a test of true childhood bravery. Abigail knows the wood and its dangers within, and is rather good at the game. But Will is the best. For some reason unknown he is never afraid of the wood, nor what it can contain, all manner of dark beasts and monsters of folklore. Besides, logically speaking Winston is usually with him, and Will knows even as a young pup Winston will alert him to any happenings.

Will often feels sorry for the wolves in the wood. In his young yet perceptive mind, he recognizes the villages unwarranted intrusion into their natural home. He tries to not let his feelings show but is sometimes noticed and teased at by the other children. One time, he is roughly scolded at by his father when he sheds silent tears upon seeing his first dead wolf caught in a trap. No one else seems to offer much compassion to these creatures, seen only as a threat. Only Mr. Hobbs offers any soothing to Will's emotions.

“We will honor every part of him Will,” Mr. Hobbs says to the boy, a comforting hand on his slim little shoulder, smartly ignoring the tear tracks down innocent cheeks. “Nothing will go to waste, I promise you. His sacrifice is not in vain.” Will understands, and although he still feels bad about it, he has been comforted in the notion that it doesn't seem to be too much of a needless death. After all, one must protect oneself and survive. Mr. Hobbs surprises the boy again a few days later, gifting the boy a leather necklace with two wolf canine teeth attached, and a small paper wrapped pack of wolf jerky. “Now you can carry him with you always inside and out.” Mr. Hobbs informs young Will. Other villagers who spy the exchange are slightly alarmed by this, but make no effort to interfere. Will is after all, the unusual child. Will, never by his own accord will remove the necklace he puts on that day. The jerky he enjoys immensely, sharing it with Winston and the other dogs. It seems suitable.

And so life in Maryland grows and prospers. Yet one day, during one of the most coldest of winters, power shifts. The wolf traps become empty, hunts showing dwindling traces of them until no proof of their existence remains. This in itself, is not a great cause of alarm as of yet. Villagers explain away their absence ignorantly. Most blaming the winter weather, though it never truly stopped the wolves before. Soon after, the huntsmen find a large dead carcass of a stag, ripped apart and almost vanished in half. The creature that has killed it clearly no wolf pack, nor the injuries made by any animal markings they have ever seen before. A dead boar carcass follows the stag, and other signs of a vicious and deadly animal are seen. Wolf Trap Wood itself grows darker and darker, something deep within making its presence known. A swelling roll of strength. The village draws in a hush, talks of a large hunting party are arranged to seek out the creature. Mr. Graham is particularly nervous and loud at home, much to young Will's detriment, forced to spend nights up on the house roof to escape drunken attacks. The day the party is set to move out, they discover with fear that during the night, silent as death, all of the hidden wolf traps have been triggered and destroyed into shattered bits.

All the traps.

The hunting party remains home that evening.

Now we must remind ourselves that despite its prospering existence this is a village, with simple folk, living out their lives without any questions of the universe, and how it works yet. So being faced with this unknown creature, intelligent and deadly, sends the village into sheer panic. It is all Mayor Purnell and Mr. Crawford can do to keep the community in calm. Reassured the creature only takes from the wood, double guards and look outs are arranged, and life goes on, abet more cautiously than before. A season later, a small group of seven walks along the dirt road to the nearby town to trade cow and sheep pelts. Mr. Graham does not join them as escort. The bigger group thinking themselves protection enough from the wild animals and enemy renegades, while on a dirt road familiarly traveled. One week later they still have not returned. Mayor Purnell sends Mr. Crawford, Mr. Graham, Mr. Hobbs, and 3 other brave burly men of the village to walk the road and find out where the wayward party have gone.

But no trace can be found in town nor on the road. Mr. Graham's dogs are on edge, constantly growling at the tree line of the wood, their fur ruffled and agitated. On the way back to the village the group of dogs stop at one point and bark. Bravely, Mr. Crawford ventures a little into the wood. Now, we remind you again that Mr. Crawford is as brave a man as they come, but even he turns death pale at the sight before him. One of the lost village men lie dead in the wood grass, hidden by foliage, and with an empty cavern in his torso where his organs used to be. Clearly not a victim of renegades or thieves, but of horror and something beyond imagination. Further in, another of the original party of seven is found. Bloodied all the same, but missing a whole leg. Blood trails lead further into the wood, but the group have seen enough. The dreaded creature has attacked them. Soon enough, other attacks occur on those entering Wolf Trap Wood, horrific but very real, as are more attacks on those attempting to travel the long dirt path to town. Mr. Graham's dogs seem to deter attacks for the most part, but they still happen. Mr. Stammets, the graveyard keeper, suddenly has more work to occupy his days and fill his pockets.

The village is in an uproar. Nothing can sooth them as they cry out to the skies, to signal their end of days. This just simply does not happen to such a quaint and prospering village. Lucky however, they have a rather practical Mayor. Together, whispering with Mr. Mason and Mr. Crawford, one night all the adults of the village meet and devise a plan.

In what would have been considered a drastic and massive undertaking back in the day, The Wall is built.

A tall structure a full two houses high, made of metal and wood from Wolf Trap Wood itself, it surrounds the village and accompanying small fields completely. Supervised by Mr. Mason, old symbols of ancient runes and angelic symbols of holiness are painted all along the wall. Just inside, two watch towers, one at each end of the village, hold lookouts that shift watch every hour of every day, and guard the only two gates and ways in and out of the village. In addition, Mr. Graham breeds more dogs, small and large, now having a pack of ten, all trained to hunt and kill and protect. Thus the simple village of Maryland now lives in constant fear of the supernatural creature that preys on it and its people. Adults whisper to children late at night, unwilling to sleep, that the creature of terrible legend will get them.

The creature will eat them all up.

Will is not truly afraid though. Even never having spotted the creature itself, Will still, as much as he is able to without getting caught, slips through a gap finds one day in The Wall and sits there watching Wolf Trap Wood. Often, he can feel as if there are eyes that watch him from the dark. Will wants to be afraid like the other children, that would make sense. But all he feels as he sits there with his back to the wall of wood and metal, and eyes to the trees, is peace, and a great loneliness.

Then one day Mr. Graham comes home shaken and bloodied. The dogs corralled outside strangely silent. Mr. Graham lives in a small hutch, with Will. The whole hutch, one whole room divided into sections for cooking, sleeping, and a fireplace in front of a soft fur seating. Will, thinking his father has been in another brawl, goes immediately to fetch the water basin and hot water to help clean his father up. Mr. Graham flops with exhaustion onto the seating by the fire Will has built just a few minutes ago. His eyes are open and frozen in memory. Large claw marked wounds are cleaned, more visible by Will with each swipe of the warm cloth. A sharp pain at the cleansed injury makes Mr. Graham jump up with a growl and push the boy hard to sprawl about the floor. Moving away he brings back his bottle of whisky and sits down again, taking a big gulp. To his son, he gives a short nod for the boy to continue in his cleansing, and the only form of apology Will will ever get. As Will once more cleans up his father, his tiny voice breaks the silence beyond the sound of the crackling fire.

“What happened father?”

Mr. Graham grunts. In a gruff voice long made husky by drink he mutters. “The creature attacked again. More and more it hunts us and makes mice of us all.”

In a fit of anger caused by the pride of a man not wanting to be so scared nor victimised, he kicks the bowl of now bloodied water to spill and skid across the floor upended. Will looks to the bowl and then to his father with alarm. For a moment, neither boy nor man move. Mr. Graham takes another long swill of whisky.

“We saw the creature this time. It killed Bentley when he tried to warn us of its presence, but we saw, we saw its monstrous form.” Mr. Graham's voice turns to a whisper and the fire in the fireplace flickers. “It looks like the devil itself, we were lucky to escape, if not for Bentley. Three men were bloodied, two Dr. Sutcliffe does not think will make it through the night.”

Will's eyes widen in alarm and a strange burning case of curiosity. Who is this creature that would attack the men and women of the village but leave Will sitting outside The Wall without protection for hours? Is it because he is yet still a boy of now ten winters? Will reaches up to grip his wolf teeth necklace.

“Miss Bloom tells us it is a creature of myth.”

Mr. Graham snorts viciously and swigs another gulp of whisky, drowning himself in burning amber.

“Miss. Bloom buries her head in too many books boy. A creature that kills is a creature of blood and bone. Yet it is the devil itself come to test our courage and try us for fools.”

Will is now very curious at this creature.

“What did it look like father?”

Mr. Graham pauses, his lips sneers. “It looked like a black shadow with long claws and fangs, but it looks like a man, sees like a man, it knows how to move.” Mr. Graham stops, as if realizing just how far fetched a description he just gave to his son.

“So it could be a man?” Will cannot help but ask, his inquisitive mind working and moving, absorbing whatever he can get.

Mr. Graham snorts. Will, caught up in the moment and foolishly foregoing his usual caution surrounding his opinions, can't stop himself when he adds “I think in a way we deserve to be attacked. It is a creature of the wood as Miss. Bloom tells us, and like the wolves, we go into it's home and disturb it. It might only be attacking us because it is scared of us and wants to protect itself.”

Mr. Graham's face turns bright red. He only just stops himself from striking his child. He is not a man used to being uncomfortable with things not solid and straight forward, or things out of his power. With a firm temper he looks down at his son, so unlike him in thoughts and mind, with his mothers bright blue eyes, and holds a finger inches from the boys face. He is displeased greatly that his son would think the creature has any feelings at all. Fear making him angry. “So you think that we deserve its attacks?!? You think all those in the village that have died ripped apart by this creature deserve its wrath?!? You are a stupid and ungrateful little boy and deserve to be fed to the creature yourself for such thinking!! Maybe I should have made you come with us, and gave the creature you instead of allowing Bentley to be harmed. At least the dogs have purpose” Mr. Graham snarls down at his son. “ It is a creature that kills mindlessly, an abomination of the good like Mr. Mason tells us. So unless you want the same fate as the dead, NEVER go outside the The Wall boy! NEVER play those little stupid games with the other children, or sneak off with Mr. Hobbs and his wretched daughter, and NEVER go near the wood! Do you understand me boy? Or do you too want to be found ripped open, dead and sad and alone?”

Will's eyes widen, not at the gruesome image his father paints but at the sheer anger in his father, which has always put him on edge.

“No father, I won't go outside of The Wall father.” He responds quietly and obediently.

“Clean up this mess you made and go to bed.” Mr. Graham groans as he gets up, and grumbling without another eligible word to his son, wanders off to his bed in the far corner of the hutch, a curtain separating it for privacy to sleep. His whisky bottle still clutched between his fingers. Will knows he will be sound asleep soon. Will cleans up the mess left on the wooden floor, but does not make any move towards his own sleeping quarters. A small but comfy pallet, located up a ladder in the loft of the hutch. Instead, he sits down on one of the cows furs on the floor in front of the fireplace and watches the fire die down to glowing warn embers, waiting for his father to falls into the deep sleep of the drunken.

He has to know, he has to see.

When his fathers snores grow to a loud pitch, and the whisky bottle falls to the floor with a thunk, spilling its contents, Will quickly and quietly fetches his boots and a warm but threadbare coat, and slips outside into the cold of the night. Walking away from the hutch, Winston appears at his side, silently following and padding along as always. Will looks to the dogs sitting beside the hutch under the small wooden covering Will made for them to keep off the rain and some of the elements. He is quite sorry to hear of Bentley's death. One of the larger dogs bred, he has done his duty and served his purpose, yet Will still feels bad for the dogs passing. His father is right in a way, as Bentley did not deserve to die protecting them from the enemies the village has provoked.... and Will DID think they have provoked the creature, no matter what his father says. Moving along the path, slipping by other cottages, huts, and the sleeping occupants inside, Will moves with purpose and familiarity to his spot on The Wall. As Will walks, he looks up at the moon, so white and silver. Will is not afraid of the night, part childish recklessness, and part comfortable familiarity, he knows the night is not an enemy but rather a natural state. The only danger is the unknown hiding in the night. But if one understands the night and what can hide in it, one does not fear the night anymore. Will has spent much time at night, escaping his fathers anger, and would in the past, when the creature had not yet appeared, climb a tree at the woods edge, and watch the shadows play above and around, through the branches lit by the moonlight. Colour drains from the world in the night, making some things look very black.

As he reaches his destination, yet again undetected. He quietly whispers Winston to stay. Though Will would happily risk himself, he would never risk his beloved pet being attacked, not even by accident. Hidden in the blind spot between the two watchtowers, a wooden panel can be moved aside slightly, and there be a gap in the metal wiring for Will to slip through. Will moves aside the loose wooden panel and slips through, the view of Wolf Trap Wood treeline greeting him, tall, dark, and foreboding as usual. The same as any night. Will has always been drawn to the wood, which is why he always goes back, even after The Wall was built, and despite the threat of the creature. Seeing nothing unusual, and watching carefully, aware of the recent attack by the creature. Will moves just next to the panel opening, facing the wood in his usual spot. His hands move to a decent sized oil wrapped cloth covering, hidden under dirt from previous visits, and slowly unrolls it now, spreading the clean side to face up and out of the earth.

Will sits.

He gives a sigh and is at peace, listening to the sounds of the night animals in Wolf Trap Wood. It is only here at this time, in the dark of the night Will feels most like he belongs. He knows he is disobeying his father and will get punished most harshly if found, especially given that he has let go unfixed a gap in the protective fence. But Will has always felt out of place in the village. Always feeling as if he is wanted for more in life. Always just on the edge of civilization. He speaks and moves and behaves but not because he wishes to. Often the face he shows to even his friends is the face of the Will he knows his friends want to see. But there is a hidden darkness inside of him that he dares not let out. That darkness finds beauty in things most others would fear or avoid. Like Wolf Trap Wood, and all it contains. Even the creature that now lurks and threatens from the dark. In some foolish naive way, Will had hoped the creature would show itself to him. But as time goes by there is no smell, nor sight, nor sound that indicates the creature is there. And although Will would gladly risk the creature up against The Wall, he is not stupid enough to venture into the wood on his own. Other things can kill him just as well, if not more assuredly than the creature. An accidental trip perhaps to hinder him, poisoned plants, and others animals such as boars. For once since he started his escapades here, Will's trip to The Wall has not soothed him. Instead, he feels more alone than ever. He wonders if the creature too feels alone, after all there has only ever been evidence of one creature killing, not two. To be the only one of it's kind must be very lonely, and that feeling suddenly fills Will to the brim. Melancholy now, and starting to get very cold sitting on the night ground, Will stretches and yawns. Shifting to put his back to the wood and crouching to roll back up his cloth, he senses a slight shift in the air behind him. Freezing still, he makes no more moves nor breathes, as he hears just at the tip of his hearing, a slight rustling of leaves. This in itself is not a wonder, but there is no breeze tonight, and no need for rustling. All of a sudden, overcome by fear of his situation like he has not had before, Will spins on his heels and lands awkwardly on his bottom, eyes frantically searching the treeline, breath in gasps.

There.

Almost at the edge.

Hidden behind a tree and large bush.

A set of golden eyes.

At first Will tries to excuse the eyes away. It is only an animal, not worth much fear. He should quickly retreat inside The Wall and be safe once more. But as his night vision focuses on the tree, it becomes clear that this is no animal like he has ever seen nor looked at in the pictures of books. A white coloured shape takes slight form and seems to be almost glowing. Will breath is labored and loud as the thing slowly comes up out of the protection of the wood around it. Will's eyes blow wide at the sight. His mouth dropping open in shock, nostrils flaring.

The creature is small, slightly smaller than Will himself, and much similar to the description his father gave him before in the hutch. It looks human like in appearance, much like that of a child. Skin the colour of white cream, it seems almost ghost like in the moonlight. But for a faint shimmering of gold through its naked skin. It looks sexless but Will has a feeling that it is a girl. Slightly chubby and round with the full cherub appearance of a baby, its bright baby blue eyes assess Will with childlike curiosity. Head tilted to the side just so, a head that to Will's even more shocked surprise, is sprouted by two small horns. Curving and elegant, other small tips sprouting shortly from it like miniature stag horns.

Will cannot move.

Neither more can the creature.

Will starts suddenly as the creature lets out a small chirp, much akin to a baby bird. It sounds inquisitive and shy. Will slowly starts to relax. He can sense no danger nor threat from this creature. Before he can help himself, his mouth moves into a small smile. The creature seems to perk up at his expression, and moves out a little bit more away from the tree, a tinkling noise filling the air.

Will thinks this simply cannot be the creature that has been killing the village folk. It seems more like a little angel of holy stories than a blood thirsty vicious creature of the dark. Was this the creature that he has felt watching him during his visits to The Wall? The creatures eyes on him feel like the sticky innocent fingers of the young babies of the village. For some reason Will does not think this is his watcher. Just as he is about to shift up on his knees and open his mouth to speak to it, the air shifts. A sudden oppressing weight fills the wood, and the trees bend. Suddenly, a deep low gong like hum fills the air, and all the hairs on Will's body stand on end at the sound. Fear, thick and clogging fills his veins, which resonates from deep inside Wolf Trap Wood. Will knows without a doubt that this is the creature they have all come to fear. At the noise however, the little white creature spins its head into the direction of the wood, and with one last glance back at Will, dashes off into the direction of its sound. All at once Wolf Trap Wood seems to sigh in relief, and the air breaths again, soothing and twinkling under the stars of another perfect clear night. All as if nothing has occurred before it.

Will has not moved.

He can feel the pain in his bottom cheek from were he landed when he spun, and the cold of the night, chilly now on his fear wet skin. But he can no longer see the little white creature. He feels undone, battered, his mind in chaos. However, he knows he cannot stay outside The Wall for very much longer. So he turns and abandons his cloth unrolled, and with every sense aware to every noise and scent of the wood behind him, scurries back through the gap in The Wall, and secures it behind him. There he stands and stares at where he has come through, unblinking and anxious. Winston pulls him out of his stupor and licks his hand, sensing the distress his master is in. Shaking himself, Will proceeds back to his hutch, hand clutching the fur of Winston's back for comfort and safety. He doesn't stop until he is up in his loft and under the blankets of his bed, still fully clothed. His mind is still going over what he had just seen and heard. It replays over and over as the realistic memory of it wrestles with his logical mind for dominance. Some details turn hazy despite his attempt to seize and keep them clear, and it feels as if he has just imagined the whole thing.

Did it really happen? Did he just see a creature of the wood? Did he just hear the terrifying sound of the truest and darkest of creatures? His brain feels fit to collapse, and if it wasn't for the fact that he still has his boots and coat on he would push away what has happened as fantasy. Instead he swallows deep, and digs under the blankets, listening to his breathing slowly even out until he slips down into the quiet of sleep.

 

**

 

The next morning Will's head is clear again, and all seems right in the world. His father, he can hear moving and stumbling about in his after drink sickness. Mr. Graham only gives a loud shout up to Will of “Get your butt to school boy!” before he stumbles out, and Will can hear him corral the dogs up for the days work. Only then does Will flip off the blankets and scale down the ladder. Seeing no edible food besides moldy bread and fruit, he resigns himself to an empty breakfast until lunch. Pouring water into a wooden bowl he undresses gives himself a quick wash, rubbing his face and underarms, before changing into clean clothes and goes outside. Winston greets him, and he crouches down to pat his loyal companion. On the way through the village, he begs a scrap of meat for Winston from the village butcher, a Mr. Cordell. He doesn't like the way Mr. Cordell smiles, but has no objection to him allowing Will some scraps to feed to Winston as a treat.

Will's day goes by as usual. He likes school, and Miss. Bloom is always kind to him and teaches them different things every day. At some point, he is being a little more subdued as usual, because he catches her staring at him in a strange considering way. But children have a skill in concentrating on one event at a time, completely forgetting what came before. He talks with sweet Molly, and admires the new bone necklace Abigail shows him that Mr. Hobbs made for her. He plays and rough houses with Brian and Jimmy, screaming defeat and calling foul when Brian holds his arms behind him, and Jimmy tickles him to submission. They share their extra lunch with him that Mam Bev packed, as always. He tries to stay out of the way and not lose his temper when Francis and Randall come to mock and harass him. Mr. Mason's children are mean through and through. Francis Verger tends to be upfront and high and mighty about things, just like his father. His opinion being law. Randall Verger is quieter and all the more frightening. Randall would wait like a predator and attack when one least expects it. Will has seen him often pulling the wings off flies and stepping on ants and bugs on purpose. After the two bullies, there is Franklin, a round tubby boy of the cheese and butter makers. He always needs to bathe more, as his skin reeks of the cheese his father and mother, Mr. and Mrs. Froideveroux make. But he is harmless enough, and often tries to follow Tobias around. Tobias is the child of the woodworkers, Mr. and Mrs. Budge. Tall and solemn, he is usually seen practicing on the beautiful violin his parents saved and saved to buy and make for him. Will never really talks to Tobias much, and that seems to suit the two of them fine. The last of the children in his acquaintance are the twins Freddie and Frederica. Nosy busybody gossipers who talk over others and each other, and whom always begins a sentence with the words “Well I heard....”. Will is surprised their tongues haven't twisted in on themselves from all the lies that can sprout from their mouths.

After school has ended and he and his friends part, Will walks to the Crawford's house. Mr. Crawford is still out working, but Mrs. Crawford greets him as usual, with warm food and tasty cakes. She also envelops him in her hugs whenever she can. Will doesn't mind, he is hungry and in need of a little attention. If she notices his strange behavior today, she does not mention it. Instead giving him a piece of sweet toffee to take home. Mr. Crawford has just reached the house, as Will leaves. He seems frustrated and irked as usual, but still pats Will's head as he passes and says “Good lad.” Will rubs his head in subconscious reaction and heads home, belly full. He plays outside with Winston a little, taking him through his paces in training. He enters his house, with no fire lit and Mr. Graham still not returned. Will lights a fire and watches it burn.

He cannot ignore the gnawing pit in his stomach much longer, not as the sun starts to set. It is not hunger that makes him nauseous. Everything from the night before comes back to him. Will closes his eyes and in his imaginative mind, the past goes back and back further. A golden light swiping away the current events of the day, until he can see his interaction with the little white creature clear in his mind, as if he is right there that same night, living it all again. Each speck of information ready to decode and sort in his head. Will is most certain that this little white creature is not responsible for the killings of the village. That responsibility is most likely the fault of the creature who made that terrifying sound at the end. Will is surprised that no one in the village has noticed the little white one before. It seems to know of the other darker creature, for it did not run from the heard noise in fright, but rather towards it as if caught. Much like a child immediately runs to his mother when she calls for them. Will can see that the little white creature is not thin nor seems hungry. It would make sense that the other more deadly creature feeds the littler one.

He shouldn't, but he wants to go back tonight and perhaps see the little white creature again. He will have to be wary though, of the other one. Adrenaline, mischief, and youthful rebellion garner his choice. Will will go back to the fence tonight. He needs to roll back up his oil cloth anyway, or risk it being there clear to see when the next watch goes to check all around The Wall. He goes to bed early to avoid Mr. Graham as he stumbles back to the hutch late that night. He smells dreadful, and Will winces in disgust at the stench of clogging perfume that follows behind him like a sad note in the air. Only widow Mrs. Bedelia Du Maurier has that perfume. An elegant lady, but worn very down by life. She was married to a rich tradesman who had an unfortunate accident while at sea, delivering his merchandise. He lost his leg, which festered, and was dead before they reached shore. Unfortunately that did not leave Mrs. Du Maurier with much, and she was forced to sell most of what she owned to afford a modest living with no husband. Now, she stays in Maryland village and is known for her persuasion in getting what she wants, either by tongue or beauty. Will has never really spoken with her, and he does not hold grudge against his father's visits with her. But her perfume makes him sneeze.

Once he hears again the telltale snoring of his father, Will sneaks out of the house. The familiar travel to The Wall puts him at ease, as does the always present Winston. But when Will reaches The Wall and slips through his gap, he first takes a moment to scan the trees.

There is nothing he can sense. He turns to pick up his oil cloth and freezes much like the night before.

His oil cloth is not there.

Slightly panicked, he looks around and ruffles through the dirt and piled rotting leaves in search, but it is gone. It is unlikely that any villages have been around to find it. His father would have told him if the dogs found anything, and he is sure that no one would be outside of The Wall tonight. All patrols outside The Wall are not done without the proper send off of prayers spoken, blessings given, and a great amount of impending fear. Will can only come to one conclusion.

The little white creature has returned and taken it.

Why it would do such Will has no clue, but it is the only explanation available.

Will puts his back to the fence and crouches down to make himself a smaller target, his eyes to the treeline. Nothing but the night life greets him. He remains alert and watchful for as long as he can, but concedes defeat when he almost falls from fatigue, and his legs shake from cramping burning pain. The little white creature does not show that night.

For the next three nights Will goes back to his spot and watches, waiting for the little white creature to show. Waiting for any indication. He is stubborn in not letting go of the happenstance with it, and refuses to dismiss it all as a dream and move on. Will starts to behave quite irritably from lack of sleep and frustration at not seeing the little white creature. Miss. Bloom teases at his tired black ringed eyes, and Mrs. Crawford fusses over him, asking what may be wrong. But Will cannot give an answer. She would be most alarmed if she knew what he was doing. Things come to a head when in his tired ire he speaks harshly and snaps at sweet Molly when she inquires after his well being. He immediately feels deep regret but the damage is done. Molly's eyes tear and she sniffles. Brain narrows his eyes at Will, and scolds him, taking Molly by the shoulders away. Jimmy seems torn but eventually follows after his brother. Only Abigail stays. She seems to accept his frustration for they skip school for the rest of the afternoon to play with the dogs, and sneak into Mr. Hobbs hunting cabin to gawk at his weapons. Big, sharp objects, each with a purpose that Abigail explains to him. Will asks her how he can make amends with Molly, but Abigail is the next closest thing to unusual after him, and has no clue. He asks Mrs. Crawford that evening and she smiles at him indulgently, stroking a curl back from his forehead, and cupping his cheek.

“Oh my, what a devil you are William.” She mocks “But a sweet boy to not be proud enough to not ask advice when needed. I can only suggest a bunch of flowers for sweet Molly, as well as an apology.”

“Flowers?” Will asks, wrinkling his nose.

Mrs. Crawford laughs happily at Will 's expression. “Yes. Flowers my child. There is not a girl in the village who would not want a pretty bunch of flowers given to her by a pretty boy.”

“And you Mrs. Crawford?” Will can't help but ask back cheekily.

“Oh you little horror! Yes. Me too” Mrs. Crawford laughs, shaking a slim finger at him. “Mr. Crawford has spent many a day picking flowers to help sooth my anger.”

Picturing such a gruff large man as Mr. Crawford picking out colourful little flowers has Will laughing out loud with Mrs. Crawford. But it is a good idea, and Will knows The Wall and the many flowers that grow by it. It is only as he is picking, that he comes up with an idea. Moving around The Wall, he plucks some extra flowers, this time not in pinks, or whites, or yellows, but in reds and greens, unusual flowers strangely shaped and wild. This he bundles and drops off hidden by his spot inside The Wall. The others he gathers with a pretty ribbon, aided to him by Mrs. Crawford, and goes on to find Molly. Molly is a little startled and wary by his approach, but is soon smiles and laughter again at his offering. Even going so far as to give him a hug. Jimmy and Abigail tease him for his actions, but are happy all is well in the group again. Brain teases too, but Will notices him looking a little disgruntled.

That night Will does as before, but does not linger to wait by The Wall. Instead, he places the flowers where his oil cloth once laid, and slips back immediately. He walks back home and goes to sleep.

The next morning Will wakes excited. Barely able to stop himself from going to check, time could not pass slower for him that day. When asked about his excitement and impatience he merely shrugs. Time passing is torturous. But when finally that night, Mr. Graham comes home and to bed, Will slips away once more.

What awaits Will makes him want to cry out to the night sky in joy.

The flowers are gone.

 

**

 

We skip forward in time now to a Will of twelve winters in age. He has grown taller, and his face more defined, losing much of the puppy fat of youth. He has begun showing great proficiency in fishing, and in training the dogs. The latter task is left to Will now rather than Mr. Graham, who has fallen much more into the bottle. Will gains great joy training them. But it seems the older Will gets the more arguments arise between him and Mr. Graham. They avoid each other for the most part. Will still goes to Mrs. Crawford's to eat and for advice. Especially when concerning sweet Molly, who has begun to take quite a shine to him. Often, Will brings back fish to Mrs. Crawford, or small game caught by the dogs.

But every few nights, Will still walks to his spot outside The Wall. Not as often as in the past, but regular enough. He has yet to really see the little white creature again, though he has extended his movement to place his gifts, either flowers, handmade colourful lures toys, or sweet treats, on the treeline instead of by The Wall. Will hoped that his bravery will encourage interaction, but it seems to have had the opposite effect. Making his way slowly to the treeline, Will waited until his nerves and wakefulness gave out for the little white creature to show. The next night his offering hadn't been taken. It was only two nights later his gift disappeared. After trying a few times with the same result, Will resigned himself to the realization that he might never see the little white creature again. This seemed true, as the only other time he spied it on his visits was due to random happenstance. Will had placed his gift as usual and not staying that night, stepped through the gap, but had turned in the last second in a sudden impulse to look back at his gift. It was then that he saw the small hand, arm, and upper body of the little white creature reach out from behind a bush to grab his gift. The rare sight encouraged Will and gave him hope, though he was smart enough to not try and do the same thing again. He still sits by The Wall sometimes, though he has had to make the gap in The Wall just a little bit bigger now to accommodate him. Watching the treeline, and being enveloped in the wonders of the night, still soothes him. Though he always feels as if he is being watched. A heavy weight of a look, like a prickle at the back of ones neck. Whether it was the little white creature or the other one who's noise Will still can't forget, he is not sure. Survival instincts make him hope it was the former than the latter. Will never forgets that the other creature is there, hiding deep in Wolf Trap Wood.

The creature has not stopped killing. Always a threat to the village, looming and deadly. Knowing that it is connected to the sweet little white creature gives Will no real comfort. Not when he sees the damage it does to both animal and human alike. Hunting parties and strong men have grouped together from the nearby town to help find and kill the creature, but to no avail. Most do not come back, others come back wounded permanently or practically on deaths door. Any traps laid are intelligently destroyed. More and more rumors and whispers are circulated. The creature is not of this world. The elders in the town suggest the village disperse. The town mayor offering shelter and a new life to all the folk of Maryland village if they leave. Major Purnell refuses to give up Maryland village. Although some villagers do leave, they leave with only blessings and good fortune for a new life. Life at Maryland village continues on unperturbed but for their creature.

However, fate can be cruel, and this would not be the tale it is if not for the circumstance that happened next.

Will knew that his little gap in the fence would not remain unseen and unchecked for long. Major Purnell called for a check over all of The Wall, to see if it can be improved, or even expanded upon, thinking all safe within its structure. Late one evening, when Will was happily walking back to the hutch after a big hot meal with Mrs. Crawford. A villager was walking around the inside of The Wall, checking its stability. To his fright and surprise, he noticed a slight wobble in a panel when he banged against it with his fist. Noting it in his mind to report back, he reassured himself that the structure around it was still firm and strong, and that the small gap wasn't enough to let the creature through. All knew the creature to be tall and large. Still not willing to take too much of a risk upon hearing it, Mayor Purnell quickly arranges a group of men together with Mr. Graham and the dogs, to guard Mr. and Mrs. Budge as they fix The Wall early the next morning. For once, no announcement is made due to Mayor Purnell not wanting to alarm the village for so small a matter as a loose paneling. That night, Will decides to leave the little white creature a bit of sweet toffee, given to him by Mrs. Crawford that evening. He goes to bed later that night content and happy.

About an hour before the sun will start to peek up over the horizon, the little white creature swiftly moves through the wood, skipping and dancing merrily to the spot near the big flat wide wooden tree. The tree circles around the place of the 'humans', or so her brother tells her. She hopes the strange creature with fluff on its head has left her something, she does so enjoy what it leaves her. Chirping happily when the tiny package is spotted like always, she forgoes the usual check around for humans. There is never anyone there, just the strange creature with pink skin, that leaves her things. Her brother has forbade her to go near the creature and the flat wide tree. When he caught her the first time, as she was about to speak to the strange creature, he was furious. They are dangerous, he told her. Would kill her if they found her. She asked why he kills them then. Her brother told her it is because he is strong, a bigger predator than the pathetic things hiding behind the big flat tree. They are nothing more than the swine that roll around in the muddy parts of the wood. But even swine have boars, and boars have sharp horns if not careful. She does not think that the other strange creature would hurt her, but she obeys her brother nonetheless and keeps unseen. However, she cannot stop herself from returning every while for her gifts. She picks up the tiny package now, making a happy high note at the sight of the sticky sweet stuff inside which she pops into her mouth immediately and chews, now in full view from the treeline.

Unknown to her, a party of men together with Mr. Crawford, Mr. Graham, and Mr. and Mrs. Budge make their way to the spot on The Wall the guard had reported about, torches flaring, weapons at the ready. They are comforted by the fact that dawn will arrive soon …. a silly protective superstition, and that they have enough men to quickly fix The Wall and retreat home. As they move around The Wall the dogs start to bark and growl, rushing forward, all in attack. The little white creature hears the dogs and freezes in terror. She knows with dread that she has made a very bad mistake. She makes a slightly worse one in crying out in fear, instead of quickly moving back into the wood in silence. Her call resonates her location and is similar to that of a young pup caterwauling for their mother.

Turning too late to rush back into the wood. The dogs come upon her.

One of the bigger ones trained to attack, grabs hold of her arm as she squeals in pain. The rest circling her growling. The party of men soon come upon her and the frenzy begins. Shocked at seeing the creature, fear making them strike out, strike out before they themselves are attacked. It matters not that the creature is small, it matters not that it does to match the description previously feared and given of a taller, black creature with deadly claws, it only matters that they kill this creature before them. This creature so unlike them in appearance. Humanity has never had a good record with acceptance of that different from themselves.

Wolf Trap Wood and Maryland village is filled with the sounds of angry, frantic calls.

“ATTACK! KILL THE CREATURE!!!! KILL IT QUICKLY!!!!”, the dogs snarling and barking, and the sad painful wails of the little white creature. She is not like her brother, having no big talons and fangs yet to rip and protect, the horns on its head still soft and curved. Creatures such as this can last thousands of years and age slowly.

But sadly, the little white creature is young, and not yet strong enough.

In the village, Will is already awake, sleepily eating stale bread for breakfast as he awoke earlier with his father to help prepare the dogs. He knows not yet what the purpose was for the early rise. He bolts upright at the sudden sounds of the chaos just outside The Wall. Scared adrenaline fills him. But it only takes a moment before he realizes from where the sounds are coming from. Filled with dreadful realization that the party may have found the little white creature and are at his spot on The Wall. Will flings himself out of the chair and races out of the hutch. Heart pounding madly, and eyes wide. Winston barks once and follows after his master. All of Will's thoughts are narrowed to his spot on The Wall and the beautiful little white creature. 'What have I done?' keeps going around in his head, as imaginings of the little white creature caught, sear into his inner eye.

'What have I done?'

On the opposite side of The Wall, the big black creature, hears the frightened cry of its sibling. Dropping immediately the bloody carcass of the boar it just hunted down. Pure unadulterated rage and fear fill its every essence to the brim. If anything has happened to his little one, there will be much bloodshed and feasting. Moving almost to quick for the human eye, it makes its way towards the painful sound. Each cry pushing it on faster and faster.

Meanwhile, Will has reached The Wall and practically flings himself through, scratching himself on the wood through the gap. It is there that the nightmare images in his head become real, projecting outward until he sees it clear in front of his very eyes. The villagers are using crossbows and spears to attack the little white creature, while the dogs circle around and entrap it. Will's heart feels like it is shattering into pieces from the pure petrified look in the little white creatures eyes. How can they not see that this is just a child like himself? How can they see evil and threat in such beauty? Its body is already marked deep with wounds from both dogs and weapons alike, and it seems to be crying pitifully.

This is Will's fault, he must fix this. Filled with righteous anger, he wretches forward and in a voice that sounds almost every part the man he will become one day, he commands “HEEL!”

The dogs immediately stop. Fully aware of their masters voice.

Mr. Graham looks over in shock at the presence of his son. “What are you doing here boy!? Are you mad?!? Get away!!!” To the dogs, he commands, “ATTACK!”

“NO!” Will screams in anger. The dogs, unsure of what to do, stop their attack on the little white creature in confusion. The rest of the villagers look back and between them in distress. It seemed so deadly clear what to do a moment before. Mr. Crawford grabs a few stunned men and pushes them into movement, shooting a crossbow arrow at the little white creature who has attempted in the confusion to sneak away.

“DON'T LET IT GET AWAY!” Mr. Crawford bellows.

Mr. Graham has walked quick steps over to his son, and grabs him roughly by the arm. “You go back boy!” Mr. Graham growls, shaking Will in emphasis. But Will cannot let this attack continue here, and he attempts to get free.

“No! You can't kill her!”

Suddenly the air around them heaves and everyone goes still. Then a rush of air and a gurgle. One of the villagers is violently spun around by a force unseen, blood spurting from a throat split from ear to ear. He falls down dead and then it appears. Standing in front of the little white creature, tall and deadly, it is the stuff of nightmares. Smooth hairless skin as black as coal with long sharp talons. Its fangs show a double set of sharp teeth on the canines, its body thin where you can see ribs and bone, but still muscular, broad, and clearly strong. On its head, a pair of magnificent black stag horns sit sharp and lethal. It's eyes, a deep red well full of rage filled dark. In silence, it quickly does away with another villager in a spectacular blood spray of torn flesh, before knocking down Mr. Crawford to the ground with a swipe of it talons, wounding the mans entire chest. It glances back at the little white creature who is standing, gripping its hurt torso and whimpering. The creature would see its sibling safe. The villagers try in vain to attack the deadly black creature, but are swatted down like irritable bugs.

Mr. Graham gets over his stunned seizing, again attempting to wrestle Will further back. Will resists and continues to call out, trying to get them to stop attacking. “Stop! Please! You don't understand!” all pointless repeated cries, falling empty on frenzied ears. Mr. Graham gives another call for the dogs to attack.

Soon, the tall black creature starts to have difficulties protecting both itself, and the little white creature from both the dogs and the villagers, who brandish painful torched fire. Everything has turned sharp in sensation, air both thick and thin at the same time, danger taking form to whisper all around them, the shadows made by the moving figures flicker violently from the dark yet rising light of the beginning dawn. In a bid to help, Will finally manages to wrestle himself out of Mr. Grahams grip and whistles loud and clear. The dogs hear immediately, and as exceptionally trained as they are, retreat back to Will. A few limping from wounds inflicted by the tall black creature. Winston has wriggled through the gap in The Wall, and joins his master at his side where he belongs, eyes and body at the ready.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING BOY!?!?” Mr. Graham bellows, he grabs Will again and savagely back hands the boy to the ground. Will falls, hitting his head on a convenient rock stationed on the dirt below and lies stunned. Moving forward to pick up a fallen spear, Mr. Graham suddenly gives a brutal yell as Winston attacks his other arm, hanging onto it with his bite in defense of his master. Not deterred and in a full berserk, Mr. Graham pulls back before throwing the spear at the tall black creature still attacking the villagers. Unfortunately, Mr. Graham still has Winston on his arm, as well as being still half inebriated, and his aim appalling even on a good day.

The spear misses.

It instead hits a different mark.

Speeding by the tall black creature to decline slightly before...

THUNK.

It spears the little white creature right through the chest.

The little white creature gives a tiny little “Eep.” of surprise before collapsing to the ground in a heap.

Everything stills.

The tall black creature stops, turns, then gives one of the most painful and anguish filled screams in history. Filled with shock, pain, and complete sorrow, it knows it cannot help its sibling anymore.

No life force is sensed.

She is gone.

Taken from him by these wretched human pigs. Giving another roar of rage it batters past the other remaining villagers, straight towards the one that has just taken his world from him.

But we shall backtrack from this devastating moment for a short moment and remember Will, who has just been stunned to the ground.

Winston, who has followed for the first time his master through the gap, let's go of Mr. Graham's arm from biting him in Will's defense, and starts to whine and lick at his fallen masters face.

Will rouses groggily, lifting his head only to see and hear the sickening thunk as the spear connects with the little white creature. The look on its face will haunt Will for the rest of his life. A look filled with surprised shock and pain. Will can only cry out weakly, tears filling his eyes.

“No....”

In that next split few seconds, questions of what if, the regret, the sadness, the shock, and the loss, jumble about his mind. Scenarios where things go differently fill his imagination, and yes, even denial of reality. But before he can dwell too long on it, his whole body is filled with such anger and he only dimly hears the tall black creature roar.

Feeling pure black hate directed at him, Will almost loses consciousnesses at the emotion.

But.

It is not directed at him.

Will raises his eyes to his father just a short distance away, and sees the black creature on a war path to him. Mr. Graham's eyes fill with terror at what is approaching. Winston, sensing overwhelming danger slinks closer to Will's side, trembling from the imposing creature soon upon them.

Mr. Graham is alone.

He knows he cannot possibly fight this creature. He has no weapon, and the other men and Mr. Crawford are still wounded and unable to assist right now. His son lies half stunned behind him, and the dogs are skulking and low to the ground at the approach of a predator clearly more deadly than them.

Mr. Graham is then suddenly overwhelmed by a great burning pain throughout his torso as the black creature reaches him. It has shoved its talons through his chest, relishing the painful cry of the human man pig before him, and lifting him up to his blood red eyes.

Black death fills Mr. Grahams vision, and melancholy enough, his last thoughts are of the beautiful wife he had failed, and his son, who is so much like her in appearance whom he is going to leave behind.

But death waits for no regrets, nor proper closure.

The black creature opens its mouth wide showing sharp fangs and teeth, and rips into the mans throat, swallowing the large chunk of flesh whole and raising its head to scream to the dawning sky.

Mr. Graham gurgles, then dies, slumping limply in the black creatures grasp.

Will's head is filled with static. His hearing a ringing chime of broken bells, and he can only watch as the creature kills his father. He feels detached, yet strangely calm. He can see and feel the beauty of blood spilled, the retribution justified, smell the metallic tang in the air, the red that fills his vision.

Then the stillness of death.

Will feels fear, regret, triumph, and murder.

He promptly hangs his head and vomits onto the ground.

The black creature lets the pathetic dead body drop. It is still in so much sorrow and pain. It feels almost crippled by it. But through its peripheral eye it sees movement and immediately looks.

It sees a small human, a youngling no doubt.

Strange to have a youngling here, they are usually secreted away.

The little youngling is on the ground. The black creature can smell the scent of fear and bile from the puddle under its head, now lifting to meet with the black creatures eyes with its own.

Now, there are moments in time when the world seems to stand still. When there is nothing in the whole universe except the two beings involved. Their first meeting written in the stars. It is not ignorance of the world around them, nor a narrowing of focus really. The black creature does not forget its recent kill, still fresh between its teeth, nor the deep ache of loss from the murder of its beloved gentle sibling. Will does not forget the stale note of his father, Mr. Graham's death in the air, nor the feeling of harsh hard dirt and dry grass underneath him and the sour smell of his vomit as he lies there. Nor can he feel nothing but fear in his own upcoming and assuming death at being the focus of this creature, who has always killed his kind. No, this is not a ignoring of reality. But it is a connection. A sudden realization of each other. This is this being, and that is that being, and you share the same air and time as each other. Different, but the same. They both breath calm, and deep of each other.

For the first time in his life, Will sees more than his provincial life in the village, he sees a dark world he has hidden deep inside himself come to the fore.

For the first time since his existence, the black creature sees hope for understanding from another creature not itself, a shared darkness.

Then the black creature screams in flooded pain and awareness as it's body seizes. A crossbow bolt has sunken deep into its flesh from the back.

Will gasps and he looks towards the direction of where the bolt might have come from.

The villagers, those not dead, have scrambled up from the ground in a strengthening show of fortitude and survival. Mr. Crawford holds a torch in one hand, and his opposite arm over his torso to help stem the flow of blood from his wounded chest. It was Mr. Cordell who has shot the bolt, and is even now placing another in ready. His face drenched in blood, smile manic. The black creature spins but in his suddenly pain filled state, cannot move in time to stop or dodge another bolt from Mr. Cordell which now lodges itself in its chest. Another two bolts from the other villagers crossbows appear deep in the creatures arm and leg. The black creatures painful moans fill the air as it is driven to its hands and knees. Other villagers surge forward in sudden hopeful survival and sense of winning, brandishing fiery torches at the creature, who tries to shed away. Will can only look on in horror and wide eyes as the creature, overcome by loss, the fight, and the whole circumstance, is for the first time, defeated. Collapsing to the ground, breathing heavily and thinly, straining for life.

The villagers yell in triumph. Only Mr. Crawford keeps his head. Moving to the creature he notices its breathing.

“It is still alive.” He says.

“Kill it!” Screams one villager.

Mr. Cordell goes to stand above it, and shoot it in the head.

“No!”

A small cry, weak but strong, is heard coming from the ground. Will has his head raised, blood trailing down his neck. His eyes are so sorrowful that all the adults give pause. Mr. Crawford looks down at Will, looking so young and fragile as a piece of thin glass.

“Will...this creature....”

“Do not kill it!” A shrieking male voice yells from further down The Wall. Mr. Mason huffs towards them, his 'holy robes' waving behind him, his eyes gleaming with chance and greed. He is waving his hands imperiously. Mr. Crawford looks like he is about to hemorrhage.

“What do you mean DO NOT KILL IT?! ARE YOU MAD!!?” Mr. Crawford bellows.

Mr. Mason does not reply. A small group of villagers follow behind him. They obviously are the back up. Or the clean up. They go to the wounded and the dead, and assist where they can. A small group with torches surround the incapacitated black creature, their eyes wide with shock, fright, and awe at the thing before them. The tall black creature is panting, and cannot even lift its head. Skewered by cross bow bolts and still trying to shed away from the fire. Mr. Mason approaches it on the ground, coming right up to it. In his face there is no fear, just greed. Not heeding the warning tones of Mr. Crawford and a few others, he almost reaches out to touch its black heaving skin before pulling back at the last moment and releasing an excited manic giggle.

“What a creature!” Mr. Mason exclaims. “It is as if the very devil has taken form of the night.”

“I find your enthusiasm unsettling holy man.” Mr. Crawford grumbles. “Now would you care to explain to us why on all that is good in this world...why we should not finally strike this creature down where it is on natures earth? End all our suffering and torment, and avenge those of our kind it has killed!?” Mr. Crawford's voice is soft but booming, and holds all the power of his standing. Even Mr. Mason draws back for a moment. But he is undeterred, his eyes and voice sly.

“We have tried so long to kill this creature, what has brought it down now? Why did it appear so close to The Wall here?”

For a moment Mr. Crawford can't stop himself from glancing down at little Will Graham still lying in the dirt, still seemingly in shock, and is at the moment staring off into Wolf Trap Wood with unseeing eyes. Mr. Mason is about to track Mr. Crawford's glance when, unable to stop himself from taking the credit and spotlight in the eyes of his mentor and role model. Mr. Cordell, steps forward with a wide proud grin.

“It was I. I made the telling blow.”

Mr. Mason looks at his faithful follower with another delightful, but to be honest, downright creepy giggle. “You? Oh, well done Mr. Cordell! Well done!” Mr. Mason claps his hands together softly in joy. “But how?”

Mr. Cordell lifts up his crossbow, now empty of bolts and beams. “It was the cross bow and the special bolts you gave me Mr. Mason. You were right!”

Mr. Mason claps again in glee. “Oh what good holy times! Praise be!”

Mr. Crawford is looking ill and fit to burst, following the sickening exchange between Mr. Mason and Mr. Cordell. “And WHAT pray tell is special about these bolts?”

Mr. Mason turns a sneaky superior look to Mr. Crawford, which makes the bigger man bristle. “The bolts are made of the finest pure silver, and holy blessed wood.”

Mr. Crawford, despite his wound clearly paining him, seems to blow up in anger. “AND WHY DID YOU NOT SAY SOMETHING BEFORE NOW! THAT WAY WE COULD HAVE SAVED THE LIVES OF OUR FRIENDS?!?”

Mr. Mason turns petulant. “Silver is hard to come by. I had to get it sent to us from a town far away, from our most holy man. There was also no guarantee that it would work as I have personally never seen this creature before, and could not assume what type of hell beast it is.” Mr. Mason looks back down at the creature, still trying to get up and move. But it cannot, it's supernatural strength finally at its limit. “Now looking at it,” Mr. Mason continues. “It has clearly been sent from the darkest depths. There are rumors that such creatures can be reborn from its end, and come back stronger. I don't know about YOU Mr. Crawford, but I would like to avoid that outcome.”

Mr. Crawford, feels drained. He can't argue with Mr. Mason's point. He clutches his wounded chest tight and draws a shaking hand over his face. “Then what do you think about that?” he asks, pointing to the dead little white creature. The spear thrown by Mr. Graham still in its chest. Even in death it is still beautiful and innocent looking, like a fae creature from stories. Mr. Mason's eyes go wide upon looking at the little white creature.

“WHAT do we have here?!”

Mr. Cordell, walks over to the little white creature and kicks it hard in the side with a wet thud, sound reminiscent of its death blow. “Dead.”

Mr. Mason seems to deflate a little upon this fact, but goes up to it nonetheless, picking up a stick and poking at it, lifting its arm up and allowing it to fall back to the earth limply. “It certainly is a creature of the same, such a small little piggy though.”

At the noise of Mr. Cordell's kick. Will raises his head, eyes stark and on the little white creature he has in his guilt ridden mind, indirectly sentenced to death. At the motions of Mr. Mason poking it. Will lets out an involuntary whimper of distress. Heard by Mr. Crawford who looks down at the boy sharply, half relieved to hear him aware, half alarmed by his reaction. Looking back to Mr. Mason. “Are we safe from it? Do you think it will be reborn like this other one might?”

Mr. Mason looks thoughtful. “Perhaps not. This does seem to be a child version of this other creature, perhaps its byproduct, or one of its litter. Who knows? It seems to have died easily enough.” Mr. Mason makes a thoughtful hum noise “I will have to take it back also, and runs tests on how to best purify it, so that I can maybe use the same methods on the other one, and dull its power.” Mr. Mason turns an all too pleased smile upon Mr. Crawford. “You see? I AM helping protect this village best as I can. The most holy man did say you must be very very careful and choose your actions wisely in all things.”

Mr. Crawford growls softly in irritation. “Very well then, as you seem to hold the answers to everything, explain to me how we are going to get this...thing... safely into the village and contained. Do you perhaps have more of this precious silver to use that you could not previously grace us with?”

Mr. Mason gives another gleeful grin. “Indeed I do Mr. Crawford! Indeed I do! The most holy man was very very generous with me, as I am one of his best and proud followers of the all word! I have silver chains that should contain it good and well for now. I will also send word straight away to gain help in building a suitable cage for such a thing as this creature.”

“FINE.” Mr. Crawford abruptly agrees. His patience and strength finally waning to a thin string. “But as soon as this thing is secure and guard duty at all hours arranged, I want a gathering of the people. I WILL NOT have their worst fear and torment suddenly be living among us without them knowing, and ALL in agreement!”

Mr. Mason waves a hand in a placating gesture. “Of course, of course, we shall have a gathering. We are not barbarians, I would do nothing to further cause risk to those of our precious village. OH! We MUST get the book and record keepers, the Madchens, to document this great time in history!”

Mr. Crawford gives a big heaving sigh. He is not a man to dwell too long in argument, he has a job to do, no matter how unsettling. He begins bellowing orders. “You there! Get the wounded back to the village and to Mrs. Crawford and Dr. Sutcliffe to see to. You three! Keep your eyes at all times on this creature. It seems deterred by fire. Make sure it knows the burn of the flame! You! Younger lad! You can go back to the village with Mr. Mason and get those special chains to wrap it up like a bug in a spider web. I want this thing contained good and tight, and arrangements made to keep it contained AT ALL TIMES!!!!. ARE WE ALL CLEAR?” Various nods and murmurs of acknowledgement and understanding are sounded, but no one moves. “NOW!!!!” Mr. Crawford has to bellow before everyone scurries off quickly. He looks back to the ground. There, near his feet Mr. Graham lies in his final end, throat and chest, torn and bloody. Such a sickening end. Mr. Crawford has known Mr. Graham for years, and although he holds no affection for the man, especially in regards to the treatment of his once wife and his young son, he has never wanted it to end this way. Especially right in front of the eyes of said son. Mr. Crawford turns to the young child, already so unusual, and no doubt traumatized by what he has just seen.

“Will?”

But Will is not there.

Looking around frantically, afraid the boy has run off in pain. He spots him in the most unlikely of ways. It seems Will has dragged his body across the dirt while Mr. Crawford and Mr. Mason has been conversing, and has situated himself next to the little white creature. Unseen by those around him.

“Will?” Mr. Crawford moves towards the poor boy hesitantly, grimacing in pain.

Will stares down at the little white creature. In his heart he knows it is his fault. He should not have left gifts for it. Should not have enticed it to come to his spot he knew would not stay hidden for long. Winston has come by to sit near his master, face just as sad. It does not seemed bothered by the creature. Will reaches out with shaking fingers and for the first time, gently caresses his hand down the little white creatures face. Gentle as a butterfly's touch, with eyes pouring tears, and breath that sobs. Its skin feels like smooth glass, cool, and with a faint sheen of gold among the blood. The spear wound is patently obvious, man made, and stark against the natural beauty of the little white creature.

“I am so sorry. So sorry.” Will whispers.

“Will!?” Mr. Crawford's voice is louder with slight shock in watching the boys behavior. He looks as if he has just lost a dear friend. Did Will know of this creature beforehand? Is that why the creature was here when it has not been seen before? Was Will in relation with the creatures? Mr. Crawford feels deeply unsettled. Though he does not expect Will to show too much grief at his fathers death, considering their relationship, he does not expect to see Will so stoutly mourning a creature, even one that looks as pretty as this. Something is not adding up, and although he does not want to push Will at this dreadful time, Will will have to answer some questions as soon as possible. Walking up to the lad, Will looks up at him. His eyes are glazed over with so much pain and emotion, they seem almost manic.

“What have you done?” Will's voice is a trembling childish whisper, “What did you do to her?.....” his head feels like it is about to explode. Over and over again the sight of the little white creature both alive and dead, overlaps in his imagination. Over and over again, he sees a little white hand grab his gift, then chirp with its head cocked, then the pain as the spear strikes it, then its trembling cries as the dogs attacked it, then its fear but relief as the tall black creature stands before it.....over and over the images and feelings swarm through Will, as if he can feel and see everything that has just happened through the body of the now dead little white creature. It is too much, Will can't breath. Mr. Crawford watches in horror as Will seems to seize, eye whites showing clear. Will's head gives an almighty screech of pain, like lightening, before he finally collapses back to the ground in a faint.

“Will!” Mr. Crawford cries in alarm, attempting to reach down and grab the boy, but his body has finally given up, and his wound is fierce. He collapses to his knees beside the now prone Will, gasping in pain. Villagers surround them attempting with grasping hands to help. Mr. Crawford lets two men hoist him up again.

“Someone grab Will and take him straight to Mrs. Crawford, NO ONE ELSE! Are we clear?!” Mr. Budge moves forward. Miraculously, the woodworker has remained mostly unharmed during the attack. Having known he is no fighter, he has been hiding close to The Wall with Mrs. Budge. He picks Will up gently but professionally, and walks towards the closest gate inside. Mrs. Budge, checking Will's forehead and face as they go. Satisfied, Mr. Crawford looks back down at the little white creature. Mr. Cordell, has not moved from its side and is now looking down at it, as if assessing to see whether it can be chopped up.

Sickening.

“Mr. Cordell!” Mr. Crawford barks. Mr. Cordell looks up with a wide grin.

“Since you seem so capable, why don't you take that creature to Mr. Mason? Directly.”

Mr. Cordell's grin remains wide. “Of course, it would be my great pleasure.” With smooth movement he swings his crossbow over his shoulders, and picks up the little white creature, who looks all the more tiny now in the bigger mans arms. Unsettled even more by the whole thing, Mr. Crawford watches the man carry the thing along The Wall. Shrugging off with pain the reaching hands of another villager attempting to help. Mr. Crawford surveys the scene before him. Dead bodies still on the ground, blood pooling and splattered everywhere. The very air still smells like death, and feels like it too, silent and disturbing, despite the sun now rising up just over the treeline, shining bright onto the world. The dogs are now cringing near Mr. Grahams dead body, whining, Will's dog having followed Mr. Budge with Will back inside. Of the others, some are heavily injured and will probably not survive. Mr. Crawford turns to the hovering villager “Go fetch Mr. Hobbs. He is the most familiar with the dogs, and can take care of them in Mr. Graham's stead.” Originally there would have been no problem with Will officially inheriting them, as they clearly follow his orders more. But Will is in no frame of mind to see to them right now. The villager rushes off, only once making a checking backwards glance. Mr. Crawford surveys the scene once more, then with a heavy sigh at what has just occurred, slowly make his way back inside the village, shuffling in pain. He notes with strange dark humor that the gap in The Wall is still gaping, having been left still unfixed. It's presence raw and uncomfortably open, like the world seems to be right now.

 

***

 

Now, imagine that nothing good will come out of allowing the creature, not of myth now, but of solid black fleshy reality, inside the heart of Maryland village. Indeed, in the end, no one gains a happy result from the time of the creatures incarceration here. Least of all little Will Graham.

As the villagers move the creature inside, equal chaos and questions by the whole waking and gathering village ensue. Strange, since it is usually the world outside The Wall where things occur, that is chaotic. Now it is silent, empty of the powerful creature that gave the wood its dark breath. Mayor Purnell is standing at the forefront of the grouped villagers. He watches with complete speechlessness as the black creature, now wrapped in shiny silver chains, is dragged forward. It lifts its head once stopped, to glare balefully around at the wretched pigs gawking at it, but it cannot persevere, and lets its head fall back heavily to the ground, letting out a painful long moan. At the sound, every villager jumps exclaiming loudly. Mayor Purnell, turns white around the edges of his eyes and mouth, and looks seriously towards Mr. Crawford, who now shuffles towards him.

“What is this?” Mayor Purnell hisses lip curling.

Mr. Crawford, doesn't see any reason to not tell the blank and ugly truth.

“We found another creature at the treeline...”

“WHAT!?”

As if on cue, Mr. Cordell walks towards them with the little white creature in his arms. Smiling widely, he drops his burden right at the feet of Mayor Purnell. Unfortunately, this also places it right beside the black creature, who finds enough strength to look to the side at his poor dead beloved sibling, and let out a roar of anger. Those holding the black creature's chains, tighten them. The whole village jumps again and starts to panic. Women clutch at their chests in distress, men rumble angrily and ready themselves to defend. Mayor Purnell steps back in fright.

“What?....Why?...”

By this time, Mr. Crawford has had enough of this day. He wants nothing more than to go and be seen to by his soothing wife, to check on little Will, and to kill the black creature so it can never kill again.

Not necessarily in that order.

“Ask Mr. Mason. We had the creature surrounded, it has killed many. Mr. Mason stopped us from ending its life.” Crawford says.

“WHAT?!” Mayor Purnell looks completely overcome. “Why to all of the heavens? And what does it have to do with this other....thing?!”

“We believe it's in relation to the black creature. When we attacked it, the other arrived.” Mr. Crawford explains.

“So there were two...of course.” Mayor Purnell looks thoughtful, pondering. “If there are two it stands to reason that there might be more.”

“So it may seem. Mr. Mason for some unholy reason, thinks it may birth itself again if we kill it.” Mr. Crawford snorts. “He wants to keep it captured to test. The little one too. But we MUST kill it! Now! Before something happens. While we have our chance!”

Mayor Purnell considers his long time friend and right hand man. He too thinks the black creature, that which has been tormenting them for years should be killed immediately. But never has he made any decision lightly and without discussion, and although he is not completely taken in by Mr. Mason's 'holy followings', he is mayor, and rules and guidelines must be adhered to. He looks around at the villagers, whom a bit braver, all slide forwards to see the black creature more clearly. Little children now sneaking out of the house, curious about the commotion. Shivering from the cold, he says “I assume Mr. Mason has an answer on where to keep this...thing?”

Mr. Crawford, lets out a sigh of pain. He should have known that it would not be so easy in convincing all to simply kill the creature. “Yes. He mentioned something....”

“Then get both…. things there immediately. It is causing too much chaos here. I want a meeting of the leaders at my house as soon as it is sorted.” Mayor Purnell then softens his look as he finally sees the blooded state his friend is in. “Tend to yourself. You have done well. Whether alive or captured this creature can torment this village no longer. How big are our losses?” Because there is no thinking otherwise, that this incident went by with no casualties.

Mr. Crawford rattles off the names of the men he saw clearly to have passed on from this world. He mentions Mr. Graham's name last. It is met with a mix of pity and grim acceptance. Mr. Graham is not a well liked man, but no one likes to disrespect the dead. “We shall have to speak to young Will then, before words travels to him from others, though that may already be the case.” Mayor Purnell formally comments with a frown.

Mr. Crawford hesitates. “Young Will was with us when this occurred Mayor Purnell.”

A sharp and alarming look follows this tiny bit of information. “Why was Will there? Did his father bring him?”

“No.” Mr. Crawford recalls, remembering spotting Will confronting his father, then the strange and disturbing reaction Will shows by the body of the white creature “I believe he knows the white creature.”

Mayor Purnell's eyes widen. “Knows?” he asks softly. Mr. Crawford nods reluctantly, wanting to protect young Will from further trauma this day, but knowing there are some questions to be asked of him. Mayor Purnell makes a deep humming sound of discontent. “Bring young Will to the meeting then. We will sort this out and Maryland village will prevail once more. Now free of this danger.” Mayor Purnell's lip curls as he looks back down at the heavily panting creature, now somehow more human like in the rising morning sun, but no less dangerous.

The creature ends up thoroughly chained in a steel cage, with angelic runes and symbols engraved in silver around it and on the bars. It slumps there, not moving but for its milky white eyes, devoid now of any red, which watches their every move. The cage is situated inside a large empty cabin on Mr. Mason's property. Mrs. Mason is not present anywhere, that anyone can see. Mr. Crawford narrows his eyes to the cabin, not believing for one second the 'in case of guests' excuse Mr. Mason gives for his reason of having an empty cabin far from his main house, nor one that contains an already made cage. But no one questions Mr. Mason, no reason why not, just blind acceptance, as is the case of most villages back then. If you are authoritative enough, people don't ask. Guards are arranged, for morning and night watch. Mr. Mason seems a little put off at this constant surveillance in his property, a peek of disgruntlement showing through his disgustingly smug pride at having the creature in his grubby paws. But he backs down under Mr. Crawford's glare. Mr. Crawford doesn't want to take any chances. Once all is settled, Mr. Crawford walks straight for Mrs. Crawford, where he finally receives the care and soothing he deserves. Having already received young Will from Mr. Budge, Mrs. Crawford is right beside herself with worry.

Soon enough though, the leaders gather together in Mr. Purnell's home, and big bricked structure. Neat and very clean with not much adornment, inside holds a massive solid wooden table and velvet chairs. Usually only used for talks and discussions such as this, or for the big Winterfest banquets Mrs. Purnell hosts each year. 'Leaders' is also using a very loose term to describe the gathering. It consists of a group of adults that Mayor Purnell has chosen to listen to about such things around the village. Mrs. Purnell is sitting in as she always does. Mr. Mason is here, as is Mr. Cordell. Mrs. Mason sits silently next to her husband. She looks no less beautiful, but very wane as per usual. Her red head down to her clutched hands on her legs, all submissive wife behavior. Miss Alana is here, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Budge, as they are capable witnesses of the creature's capture. A few other close friends of Mayor Purnell are present, as are Mr. and Mrs. Madchen, as official record keepers of the village. Mr. Hobbs, stands lurking by the doorway as is his fashion. Mr. Crawford is of course present, as is Mrs. Crawford, sitting in place of Dr Sutcliffe who is still at the moment, tending to the wounded. Mrs. Crawford has insisted on attending anyway, on the basis of young Will, who looks so small and helpless, sitting in his chair among them with a blanket over his slim shoulders. Mrs. Crawford sits close, clearly in protective mode, but Will does not notice. He stares blankly at the table before him, face expressionless.

Once a cohesive and chronological explanation of the events of Wolf Trap Wood, The Wall, and the black creature are hashed out, the real debate begins in all its argumentative glory.

“Why do we not kill it!?” a man by the name of Boyle, calls out in superior fear. Mr. Crawford cannot argue in the sentiment itself. Every part of the man wants to go down to Mr. Mason's cabin, and strangle the thing with its silver chains, before burning it alive. His sense of diplomacy the only thing keeping him in his chair. That and his still wounded chest.

Mr. Mason gives a airy sigh of exasperation and tuts at Boyle. “Don't you know that if you kill a creature such as this, then it will only come back stronger?” Mr. Mason ruffles with his robes and gives a soft laugh. “You speak of things you do not understand. This creature is from the darkest depths. It will take one of superior skill in the light to properly vanquish it.”

“And YOU of course, have that skill Mr. Mason?” Miss Alana asks dryly.

Mr. Mason gives her a smug smile. “Indeed I do Miss. Alana. The village can feel safe once more knowing that I have it all in hand.”

“And in a cage...” Miss. Alana adds under breath. Mr. Mason gives a huff and pretends to not hear her. He turns to Mayor Purnell who is actively listening to the voices all round. “It will be best that I deal with this threat. I can learn a lot from my testing...”

“Torture.” Mr. Crawford interjects.

Mr. Mason gives a giggle and gleam, “Need I remind you Mr. Crawford, that THAT CREATURE has killed many of us over the years. Innocents. Surely, you are not adverse to my using just as drastic and harsh methods to ensure our safety? And the proper riddance of such creatures?”

“Creatures?” Mayor Purnell speaks for the first time since hearing about the event by The Wall. “You think there may be more than the two alone?”

“It would certainly explain the appearance of the smaller white creature.” Mr. Mason reasons. “Though from first glance it seems male in gender, it is only in part. It has no...ummm...full male appendage. There is no definite way to explain how the creatures may birth their young. We will have to assume there are others. It would also explain how it has bested us in attacks, it may not be quick so much as there are many.”

“Or it could simply be that much of a predator.” Mr. Crawford interjects angrily. “You were not there when it first attacked. It was fast, it was dangerous, and it was very on point!”

“I conquer with Mr. Crawford.” Mr. Budge adds in his soft voice.

Mr. Mason turns a slimy placating look to Mr. Crawford, his tone pitying. “Of course, though you were injured and fell, and this creature is beyond mere human understanding.” Mr. Mason holds his hands palms upwards in helplessness, and nods to Mr. Budge. “I am not saying that you are lying in all the holy light's understanding. I am merely saying that we should not dismiss the idea. Papa always told me to be prepared is to be plentiful in the end.”

Mayor Purnell watches the discussion back and forth. Holding up a hand to silence further argument, he turns to Miss Alana and the Madchens. “Is there any truth to all this speculation? What do we know?” The Madchens hesitate. Mrs. Georgia Madchen speaks “We know nothing in the old records. Only what we have seen and heard from those left alive. We know it kills, we know it hunts, we know it lives in Wolf Trap Wood. All accounts of its inhuman look and strength and size can be spoken for, clear as we may view it now.”

Mrs. Purnell curls her lip in disgust. “ Abomination,” she hisses. “I agree with Mr. Mason. We must deal severely with this creature.” Mr. Mason gives a clap of joy at this. Mayor Purnell simply turns to Miss. Alana. “Is there any truth to what Mr. Mason claims? What have your books told you?”

Miss. Alana too, hesitates in her reply. “I have not yet been able to research much in this short time. What I can tell you, is only what I have read about in a very old writing of folklore.” Miss. Alana gives a helpless shrug, but Mayor Purnell leans forward in his chair, his eyes like an eagles. “Please Miss. Alana, tell us what you know so that we may come to a proper decision.”

“From what I found, and from what I saw, the creature is called a Wendigo...”

Mr. Crawford spies something at the corner of his eye and is startled to see that upon Miss. Alana's words, young Will has finally risen his head and sits with rapt attention, focusing on Miss. Alana. It unsettles Mr. Crawford a bit.

“A creature of the dark and the cold.” Miss. Alana continues, “It explains why the village has been so cold lately, even though it is at the start of the blooming and summertime. It is said to be a monstrous creature of strength and speed, and yes.... it is said to be unhurt by normal weaponry, and told to be able to reincarnate.” Miss. Alana adds the last part reluctantly, not happy to be confirming any truth out of Mr. Mason words. The latter, whom hears her last confirmation with an even higher air of righteous preening, earning an eye roll from Miss. Alana.

“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Mr. Crawford asks. Anything that might justify in his argument that the creature be destroyed immediately.

Miss. Alana turns to the gruff man with a small but sad smile. “Only that it...well....” Miss. Alana dies off in speech.

“What else Miss. Alana?” Mayor Purnell encourages.

“Well...” Miss Alana speaks slowly and nervously. “Only that it is an abomination, not born, but made from man... a man... who has cursed himself by eating the flesh of his own kind.”

Shocked gasps and murmurs of disturbance echo around the table. Mayor Purnell sits back with a frown, Mrs. Purnell turns green with a hand to her mouth.

“SUCH AN ABOMINATION SHOULD BE DESTROYED IMMEDIATELY!” Mr. Crawford yells, slamming his fist onto the table for emphasis. He attempts to stand only to be reminded painfully of his wound, and sits back down with a groan. Mrs. Crawford puts a soothing hand on his arm.

“Nonsense! If it was once a man, then there is every possibility that he can be cured by the holy light!” Mr. Mason says. His face full of manic religious faith. Mr. Crawford snorts with all derision, only outdone by Miss. Alana's disgusted face.

“Not everything can be cured by your so called holy light!” Mr. Crawford states starkly.

“You DARE spout blasphemies against the holy light and its teachings?!” Mr. Mason whispers livid.

“If it saves lives and the village, then YES!!!!” Mr. Crawford challenges.

Mr. Mason opens his mouth to make his rebuttal.

“ENOUGH!” Mayor Purnell shouts. He gives a big sigh and thinks in contemplation.

The room is filled with quiet.

“The creature has not been caught since it first made its presence known to us. The only reason now that I can infer, is due to the white creature being found by us. But we have never seen the white creature until today. Why?” Mayor Purnell turns to Mr. Crawford and includes the small hunched figure of Will in his sight. “Is there something you should tell us Mr. Crawford?” Everyone turns in their stares and attention to Mr. Crawford and Will. Will sinks deeper into his blanket and chair, not liking the sudden focused attention of the whole room on him at all. Mr. Crawford looks down at the boy and gives a hard sigh. “Will....why were you there today? Did you follow your father?” Mr. Crawford asks the boy with the softest tone he can muster.

Will is again staring blankly at the table before him. Mrs. Crawford reaches out and settles the blanket better on his slim shoulders.

“Will?” Mr. Crawford presses again. Will looks up in a quick glance then shakes his head, looking back down. At Mayor Purnell's impatient sound, Mr. Crawford moves off his chair to squat in front of Will with a pained noise. Mrs. Crawford reaches out instinctively to her husband, the movement making Will look up and meet him in the eye. Will's eyes are filled with pained sadness and scared uncertainty.

“Will, I saw you with the white creature.” Will's eyes widen at that, and confirms to Mr. Crawford that Will knows about the white creature more than he first thought. “We have to know the truth Will. Tell us the truth. Have you seen the white and black creatures before?”. Will nods, hesitating, his words when spoken are halting.

“I never spoke to the white creature, and I haven't ever played with her or anything.”

“Her?” Mr. Mason interrupts, earning a sharp look from Mr. Crawford.

Will nods. “Her.”

“How do you know it is a her?” Mason asks greedily.

“I just know.” Will replies in a soft voice.

“Did you make the hole in The Wall?” Mr Budge asks suddenly.

Will looks up startled. “Yes.... I mean... I found it, made it bigger later so I could....” Will winces at the stern disapproving look that comes upon Mr. Budges face. The table is surrounded by angry murmurs, aware now that they have always been at risk from a hole in The Wall. Mr. Mason opens his mouth again, but is silenced this time by a look off Mayor Purnell. The mayor is not completely unsympathetic to the young boys state right now, but he has a village to protect, and he needs answers. “Start at the beginning Will.” Mayor Purnell instructs, leveling a sharp look around the table that promises harm should anyone interrupt the boy again.

Will takes a stuttering breath, then speaks in a small voice devoid of emotion. “I found that a plank was loose on The Wall when I was walking around it one day. I stole.....well I stole some tools to get through the metal wiring. I like Wolf Trap Wood. I like going there with the dogs and Mr. Hobbs and Abigail. I go there and sit just outside The Wall at night sometimes, when...when my fath....” Will stutters to a stop and trails to silence, his eyes widening as the memory of Mr. Grahams demise floats across his vision. Sharp black talons and teeth ripping into what was his fathers body, but is now just meaty flesh. Will can still smell and almost taste the metallic blood once more. The whole room shifts uncomfortably. They have always known of Mr. Graham's temper and behavior towards his boy. But like most villages, what goes on behind closed doors is often ignored and unspoken for.

“That is very dangerous, sitting outside The Wall Will,” Alana softy comments, giving the boy a gentle look. “You can get hurt, not just by the creature, but by other predators.”

“I'm not afraid of the wood.” Will exclaims stubbornly. “The woods never hurt me, and I feel...well I feel peaceful like there.”

“You cannot blame the child for what is in his blood.” Mr. Hobbs interjects strongly. “There are some who are at one with nature. I have seen it myself when I have brought the children out.”

“We are not arguing young Will's foolish acts in going beyond The Wall right now. Though the act does in itself have consequences, no doubt placing the whole village in danger. It is not main issue that should be addressed right now. Will has, in my opinion, learnt from that mistake whether it be in his nature to have done so or not.” Mayor Purnell speaks with authority. He again turns to Will, and makes it very clear, exactly, what he wants to know about. “Tell us about the creatures Will.”

“It was on one of the nights. I saw the white creature. She just stood there. Looking at me.” Will gives a small smile. “She was so pretty, and didn't seem to mean me no harm.” Will's voice turns a little bit louder and more anxious. “But she ran away when I approached.” Will fiddles with the edges of the blanket as he continues. “She didn't come back. But then I spoke to Mrs. Crawford, and she told me that girls like flowers and such.” Will looks up at Mrs. Crawford, who gives the boy a small strained smile, remembering the frowning little child as he pouted on what to do with the upset Molly. “So I gathered some, flowers that is, and left it by The Wall. The next night they were gone.”

“Did you leave more gifts?” Mr. Crawford asks. Will nods “I left flowers, some toffee, small toys. I always knew she got them. But whenever I tried to spot her again she would leave them a while. So I stopped looking, and just left them there. I still sat by The Wall, and stayed, but I never tried to see her. Only once I saw her by accident, taking the gift I had left.”

“It sounds as if you were courting the thing.” Mr. Mason says snidely.

“No!” Will responds indignant. “I just.....she seemed to like them.” Will trails off again.

“Did you ever see the black creature Will?” Mayor Purnell asks.

Will shakes his head. “No. He never turned up. Sometimes though, I would feel something watching me. Some...dark thing...not her, but something else. But it was never more than that. Even when I started to bring the gifts to the treeline. I suppose it knew I never meant no harm.” Will forgets to mention that first time he heard it bellow. They already know that it has a relationship with the little white creature. No need to the fire.

“It could also be that Will is a child in it's eyes, and not worth the threat.” Mr. Hobbs interludes again. “Most predators will not attack children, not unless the child itself has attacked it or one of its own young. The black creature for all of its killing has not harmed our children, nor the dogs if it can help it. We have already discerned that it is an intelligent creature, plus it seems to have a child of its own. Children are precious golden gifts bestowed to us, to any creature”

“ You think that is why it left young Will alone, despite his ventures outside The Wall?” Mayor Purnell asks. Mr. Hobbs nods once in agreement.

“You are all blind to it's dark nature, poor little lambs.” Mr. Mason comments with all the condescension he can muster.

“You have another opinion Mr. Mason?” Mayor Purnell turns with guarded eyes to the holy man.

“Why yes,” Mr. Mason smiles sickeningly sweet. “It is a creature of the dark, and evil to its core. No doubt the white creature is simply a pretty little lure to trap such weak minds as some people here, who may think otherwise of my explanation, and of course our precious children such as young Will here.” Mr. Mason gestures a light hands towards Will, who does not feel precious at the gesture, but rather superfluous. Mr. Mason continues.

“The creature has no sense on who it should attack, it merely lures you in. This is the result! The boy starts to give gifts to the things! It is a tribute and form of worship! A false one and wrongly done. The boy clearly has been coerced and has turned to the evil side. He should be dealt with.”

“What are you saying Mr. Mason?!” Miss. Alana cries out.

“I am saying, that Will has undoubtedly turned to the creatures side against us. Mr. Cordell has told me troubling news about the event just past. That Will cried out for the creatures to not be hurt, calling off the dogs, and even getting his mutt to attempt to stop Mr. Grahams efforts to kill the black creature, ultimately helping the creature, and aiding in its killing of Mr. Graham. His OWN FATHER.” Mr. Mason sits back with a pleased smile.

Shock and alarm fill the villagers. Mrs. Crawford grasps Will by the shoulders as if in an attempt to shield Will from such stark truths. Miss. Alana gasps with hands to her mouth and eyes wide, as if she cannot believe Mr. Mason has just stated such in front of the clearly traumatized boy. Mr. Crawford narrows deadly enraged eyes and hisses “Mason.....”

Will is rattled to completion at Mr. Mason words. Mainly because he knows them to be true. In that moment, he had valued the creatures lives before his own father. He can't even comprehend just what kind of child that makes him. Even more right now, because he still can't muster regret over his actions. Indeed, he feels guilty at the fact that he does not feel guilty about his fathers demise. He is sad, when all is said and done Mr. Graham is....was, his father. But Will knows he would do the same thing again given the chance, and that thought leaves a tasteless ash feeling in his mouth, and a sick churning pit in his tummy.

Around the room murmurs grow in sound while Mr. Mason looks upon it all with satisfaction. Mayor Purnell calls for quiet but Mr. Mason is not done.

“For his actions the boy needs to be taken into care.”

“Explain Mr. Mason.” Mayor Purnell commands, startled despite himself.

“I will take him into my custody, and bring him directly to the Great City, to face the justice of the holy council.” Mr. Mason happily states, as if he has no problem whatsoever demanding punishment on an innocent a child.

However, immediate refusals and disagreements come from Mr and Mrs. Crawford, and Miss Alana.

“You said so yourself Mr. Mason, that the creatures are devilish and can take advantage of the little minds of our children. If that is the case then I see no reason why poor innocent Will should be punished. In my reading, it is said that the Wendigo can trick others by voices and mimicry. It is truly a devastating creature whom we now have captured, so it can cause no more harm, neither can it trick young Will anymore. Or can you NOT do as you say, and keep the creature in check and protect our village and ALL who live in it?” Miss. Alana gives a challenging look to Mr. Mason, who suddenly appears as if he has just swallowed a sour plum. Not at all used to being challenged. Miss. Alana continues with her head high, looking around, and including in her tirade all grouped at the table. “As for Will's actions surrounding his trips outside The Wall. It is clearly the natural behavior of a growing boy rebelling a little, going to places he should not. As Mr. Hobbs has said, Will is fond of Wolf Trap Wood, and it would make sense that he should choose to go there. His actions towards the white creature, are clearly nothing more than an innocent child's attempt at friendship, despite differing appearances, and his pure thoughts should be commended, not punished. Look at him! Will is clearly beside himself by all this. He has just lost his father, despite what everyone here may think of the man, in a most painful and shocking way right before his eyes. He should be given every form of nurturing and support possible by those around him, so he can move on and grow from this tragic event.”

Miss. Alana's words are met with strong nods of agreement and sad sympathetic looks thrown at Will, who simply retreats further into himself, tugging the blanket around his shoulders. Mayor Purnell assesses the two individuals.

Miss. Alana, who's eyes spit fire at Mr. Mason, who is in turn sneering at the woman.

“In this case, I will side with Miss. Alana. This creature is clearly something almost beyond us, and I WILL NOT be so petty or stupid as to put blame on a child. It is more our fault for not checking The Wall better, and not protecting our children from the creatures influence. In a way, it is also a good thing, for had not Will brought the creatures to us, we would not have had the opportunity to kill one previously unknown to us, and finally capture the other. We will keep it alive for now, and I will allow Mr. Mason to do what he wills with it, so we can learn how to best protect ourselves should there be a chance there is more in Wolf Trap Wood. BUT there will be guards at all times. Armed with crossbows and those special silver bolts. I will not take any chance.”

There is no argument to this decision. Mr. Mason looks positively in rapture that he can keep the creature in his care. If not for the past killings of his fellow villagers, Mr. Crawford almost feels sorry for the thing.

“And what is to be done about Will now Mayor Purnell? He has no other kin.” Mrs. Crawford asks.

“I can still take him to town.” Mr. Mason almost crows. “The holy council has a wonderful orphanage for lost young boys such as Will.” Will looks up in alarm. He knows that if he ends up with Mr. Mason, there is no guarantee what might become of him. If forced, Will is prepared to run away on his own, perhaps into Wolf Trap Wood. With the creature gone, he is sure he can handle any threat Wolf Trap Wood still holds.

But young Will need not worry.

“I will take him!” Miss. Alana offers immediately, glaring at Mr. Mason. “He needs support and care, and the familiarity of the village, not some unknown place in town.”

“I can take him,” Mr. Hobbs says quietly. “I have already spent time with young Will since he was a babe, and I'm already caring for his dogs. Also, he is good friends with my daughter, Abigail.” Mr. Hobb's offer is met with slight disturbing hesitation, as there is a slight eeriness to Mr. Hobbs that makes most villagers wary.

Mayor Purnell hesitates.

“We will take him.”

The firm and strong voice comes from Mrs. Crawford. All eyes stop on her, but she remains resolute. “As you all already know, Will has spent much time with me and my husband. Plus, as you all also know, we are unable to have children of our own. Will has always been the son to me I could not have. We have plenty of love, and all the resources we need to care for Will. Indeed, I agree with the others. He needs the stability of the village right now as well as a mothers care, and a fathers guidance in his life. All three we can provide him.” In complete agreement, and in thought that over his cold dead body would he ever hand any child over to Mr. Mason, Mr. Crawford crouches down once again to look at Will.

“Would you like to come with us son?”

Will looks to Mrs. Crawford who smiles encouragingly at him, then to the gruff Mr. Crawford who has always treated him well, and nods.

“Then he will come live with us.” Mr. Crawford states, moving back to his chair again with a groan. He then turns to Mr. Hobbs. “I would appreciate it however, if you continued to care for the dogs. I know they are special to Will, and he trusts you with them.” Mr. Hobbs gives a nod of acknowledgement with a small smile. Will however, looks up, a small noise escaping.

“I will have Winston of course, returned to you little wolf. You should never have to be separated from such a loyal companion.” Mr. Hobbs immediately says, recognising the reason behind Will's distressed noise with complete understanding. Will gives a very small but grateful smile of relief to Mr. Hobbs, which Mrs. Crawford is relived herself to see. A sign that Will may recover from this incident yet, and perhaps without too many scars.

“Then all is settled.” Mayor Purnell states. “It has been a long and harrowing day, let us all adjourn and rest. Mr. Mason, if you could stay however for a bit longer, so we can discuss better your plans for this creature?”

“Oh of course Mayor Purnell! I'd be delighted to discuss everything with you!” Mr. Mason says gleefully, clapping his hands softly together again. He turns immediately to Mrs. Mason sitting beside him. “Go home!” he says rudely. Mrs Mason jumps, startled at being addressed so suddenly, bows her head, and scurries off. Mr. Crawford watches Mr. Mason carefully. He wants to stay and hear what will be said, but his wound is making him weaker by the second, and Mrs. Crawford is already bundling Will off, wrapped in her arms. Mr. Crawford gives a heavy sigh and follows after his wife and new son. The group leave the Mayor's house.

 

***

 

Mrs. Crawford puts Will to bed in a little made up cot, as soon as they get home. Their place is a small but homey stoned cottage. Flowering plants adorn the outside and inside tastefully, and Will has always enjoyed its eternal scent ever present. But right now he just feels pain. Both external from the rough treatment and injury on his head, and internal. His brain replays every moment from the moment he woke up, to now in perfect recall and detail. Mrs. Crawford certainly notices that the young boy's eyes seem glazed over and unseeing of the real world. She gives him a dose of pain powder, and soothes the brown curls from his forehead. Will can't sleep. But he does close his eyes to appear so. Though he appreciates the comfort Mrs. Crawford is offering, he just wants to be away from it all. Strangely, he wants to go back to his spot on The Wall, and surrender to the peace he gains being near the wood. But he knows going back will never be the same. Tears prick and burn his eyes as he buries his face into his pillow to hide them. But they remain with him long into the next dawn.

Will remains distant for the next few days. Spending his time resting at the Crawford's home..well...his home now too he supposes. Mrs. Crawford certainly does all she can to make him feel as welcoming as possible, and Will feels uncomfortable with how rude he is being in remaining apathetic. But his mind's eye is committed to the event past, and the confusing guilt that surrounds him from the death of the little white creature, and not Mr. Graham. The last fact proving to add more guilt to Will's already guilty feelings, by the fact that he does not feel all that guilty about it. A vicious circle.

Will doesn't go back to The Wall.

He sleeps a lot. Which is a concern to Mr. and Mrs. Crawford, until Dr. Sutcliffe assures them that this is normal. Miss. Alana supports this fact, both assuring that sleep is a good healer, and that time can help heal the trauma. She visits Will one day, and simply sits with him on the comfy seating. She later tells Mr. and Mrs. Crawford “When people go through something rough in life they take it 'one day at a time', but so does everyone in life, because that is how time works. The best thing do to is be normal around Will” Will overhears and can't deny the logic of it. So when Mr. and Mrs. Crawford start to act as if Will living with them is something that has always happened, it does help him move out of his head. Well, enough so to be functional at the very least.

It doesn't help that Mr. Mason has obviously started his 'testing' of the creature. Sometimes its screams of rage and pain can be heard from right across the village. It fills Will with dread and an icy chill. Mrs. Crawford complains to Mr. Crawford, but nothing can be done. Mayor Purnell says and does nothing, despite some other villages complaining about the horrific noise. When the complaints get too bad, Mr. Mason comes out with holy sermons and reassurances that this is what keeps them safe now. He has apparently gotten in contact with the great holy man of the Great City. A Father Chilton, he is called. Mr. Mason receives a whole carriage full of silver tools, and orders to write and report daily of his findings. So the 'testing' truly begins.

The very first day of testing, Will has his first night terror that night.

Screaming out for some unknown reason, he wakes up drenched in sweat.

Mrs. Crawford rushes to him with motherly affections every time, but the vivid dreams live on. Most consist of Will running and hunting through Wolf Trap Wood, only to come upon the scene of past as he once did so. The earth is soaked in blood and bodies, the little white creature dead, and the red eyes of the black creature, envelope him.

Will cannot get out of his mind that altering moment when the eyes of him and the black creature join, and some sort of link happens between them. It is as if both recognize each other deeply, even though they have never met before. It has unlocked something in Will. A golden sway of motion releases deep inside his brain. Will has always been a perceptive child, but now it is as if things that usually remain unseen by others, flicker across his mind like daydreams without his control. It gives Will head pains which Mrs. Crawford tries to sooth away with tonics and gentle strokes.

But despite all that, children can adapt very well, and so Will, never one to dwell on things unchangeable, moves forward sluggishly. Things get better when Mr. Hobbs brings Winston back to Will. Even Mr. Crawford can see the light sparking in Will's eyes when he sees his furry companion. Winston in turn is overjoyed, sniffing the boy to make sure he is okay, before romping with him playfully.

Years later, after Will has long since deserted from life in the village. The villagers will whisper among themselves, that Mr. Will Graham was only ever truly happy in the village when he was with his dogs. A sure sign that he was more inclined to beast than man, even as a child.

Be that as it may, we will return to young Will, as he continues to live his life.

He still has his friends. Abigail in particular is as solid as stone, as always. He speaks with her before the others, as she and Mr. Hobbs bring the dogs over for a visit. Mr. and Mrs. Crawford remember how bright Will became after Winston's return, and hope for even more positive canine enforcement. The dogs are just as overjoyed as Winston to see Will, which makes sense. Mr. Crawford and Mr. Hobbs make arrangements for the latter to keep the dogs and work with Will in training and breeding more, until such time as Will is grown enough to properly take over the whole business of the dogs. The dogs are still be needed, as there are other predators and things to guard against in the wood and on the road. Not to mention that they are still uncertain if the black creature is the only Wendigo left, or if there are more of its kind. Playing with the dogs and Abigail, Will spies the two talking near the cottage.

“You'll be the next dog handler.” Abigail states bluntly.

Will sighs, “That's not a position Abie.” Abigail is pleased to hear her nickname from Will. Though she will never say anything, she was very worried for a time about him, only hearing rumors of the event that happened outside The Wall. Constantly asking after him from her father. Mr. Hobbs finally puts a rest to it by stating “Young Will has the body of a boy but the spirit of a wolf. All young cubs must face adversity to grow into a strong hunter. Will has the makings of a good hunter, he will prevail.”

“Like me?” Abigail had cheekily asked, feeling reassured that her father knew what he was talking about. She remembers her father had looked at her with possessive eyes, and had reached out to stroke her cheek.

“Yes. A female can be one of the most deadly of hunters. You are my pride, and will become a great huntress one day, if not already.”

Abigail had beamed proudly.

She considers her childhood friend before her. She is never one skirt around an issue, a fact that Will seems to always appreciate.

“Do you miss your father?”

Will stops pulling at the stick in one of the dogs mouths, and stares off into the distance, Mr. Graham's torn and bloody body appearing in his minds eye in an instant.

“No.”

Abigail nods, understanding.

“Do you hate the black creature?”

Will pauses again.

“No.”

Abigail tilts her head to the side. Then, a large eager smile spreads across her face. She goes over to Will and sits right in front of him, on her knees. Will's eyes widen in surprise as Abigail shifts her upper body forward.

“Tell me about the black creature, everything. What did it look like? How it was, what it was like. I wanna know everything. And about the white creature too. They won't let me see either of them, though I've asked father many times. Was it pretty? What happened Will? You told me about your visits to The Wall. Was that how it happened?”

Will's eyes go almost impossibly round from Abigail's rush of questions. He freezes as more images rush before his eyes with no order. Seeing Will freeze, Abigail sits back, a little uncertain now. Worried if her questioning has in the end, upset her friend. But she has nothing to worry about. Will feels as if a weight has been lifted from him, he sits forward and the words seem to pour from him. Meeting the little white creature, his leaving her presents, and that terrifying dawn where he finally met the black creature, which killed his father. Will didn't realize it before, but he needs to tell someone about it. Tell the truth through his mind. Tell someone who might understand his confusion, at least a little.

Mr. and Mrs. Crawford, and Mr. Hobbs watch the two young children as they sit knee to knee, face to face, and talk as if in a world of their own. It is the most animated the former adults have ever seen of Will since the event. They are pleased.

“Good to see Will with a friend, and moving on from that event with the black creature.” Mr. Crawford comments gruffly.

Mrs. Crawford makes happy noises of agreement, whereas Mr. Hobbs merely hums, a knowing smile on his face as he sees Abigail ask Will a curious question, and Will's eyes look down in remembrance before answering.

The rest of the children in the village however, deal a bit differently with Will. Some avoid him as something that has been defiled by the black creature. Since they usually ignore Will anyway, there is no change. Will hates most the pity looks he receives, the glances, especially off the older children that speak of overly sweet sympathies. Some children go the other way, to tease and bully Will more, adding on the fact that he is now parent-less and a orphan. Funny enough, it is not the taunts about his father that get Will into scuffles and childish brawls, but the nasty comments about the little white creatures death. Implanting descriptive imagined terrors with sick glee of how the creature was supposedly torn apart by the dogs. Add to the fact that Will hears almost every moment the painful roars of the black creature at the hands of Mr. Mason, and Will snaps. This is another case of concern for Mr. and Mrs. Crawford. Will's friend Jimmy, often steps in with Will in the scuffles, earning a good lecture and swift cuff off Mam Bev. The stern mother being one of the only adults who never treats Will any differently, either then, nor after the other events to come that scar Will. Will will always remember Mam Bev with affection. Brian, grows a little distant from Will, but still hangs around the group nonetheless. Molly, hugs Will upon first seeing him again, her nature of soft worry an innocent balm. Will feels very protective of her now. As if seeing the darkness of the abyss through the event, has taught him to protect better those which the abyss has yet to touch. He certainly makes more of an effort to treat Molly with kindness, behavior which makes the young girl simply delighted and overjoyed. Abigail meets every extra stumbling gentlemanly action made by Will, with an eye roll or a small snort, earning her a stern look she finds hard not to giggle at.

But there are still questions that dwell in the eyes of the other villagers young and old, questions that will always be left unasked and whispered about to others with sneaking glances at Will. It grants Will an inquisitiveness to know better the answers to those questions he sees himself. Will's talk with Abigail gives him a direction to go. He finds himself sneaking away one evening to see Miss. Alana in private, to ask about the Wendigo. Miss. Alana is surprised but tells Will what she knows. She also draws the disapproval of many when the next day, she visits Will at Mr. and Mrs. Crawford's, bringing him not just some extra school work, Will being an exceptional student, but the book she has which contains information about the legend of the Wendigo. Mr. and Mrs. Crawford thinks it inelegant and upsetting to give Will such a book, encouraging him to think about the creature that killed his father. But Miss. Alana assures them that knowing about the creature can help Will heal, and answer many inner questions he may have. Will pours over the contents of the book, reading with single minded abandon about the Wendigo. Committing his own experiences with what is written in the pages. Unfortunately, it ends up making Will irritable. As an itchy yearning to see the black creature once again, tickles in Will's mind. It brings about feelings of sorrow, fear, and curiosity, to see if that moment passed between them was simply circumstance or a true understanding. Of course, Will will later remember this part of his life and recognise it for what it is, the birth of the egg of possibility that has been born between Will and the Wendigo. But for now, to a child, it is an uncontrollable impulse and urge, much like the one that made Will return to his spot on The Wall each night. Mr. and Mrs. Crawford see how irritable and absent minded Will is getting, ever thinking about something they both can't, and don't want to understand.

They confiscate the book.

But the thoughts have already been planted in Will's young mind.

They take root and grow one evening as the children gather and play in the middle of the village center. Will is absently petting Winston, trying to get him to do a new trick, while Jimmy is playing a game of ball with Brian. Molly is making flower chains out of the newly sprung flowers with the other village girls, as the days grow warmer. Abigail sits just outside of the little girl group, plaiting straps of leather for a purpose unasked by Will.

Suddenly a familiar, but no less disturbing sound is heard from a place on the right end of the village. All children and adults stop still, and turn towards Mr. Mason's residence. Will feels the painful roar heard sink deep down into his bones.

The black creature.

A few mutters are made by a few, then the village continues on, life rushing back, children continue in their playing, and yelps and cries of happy fun fill the air once more. Only Will remains motionless, unresponsive to Winston's snuffles and nudges. Molly notices Will's reaction, and straight away rises as gracefully as a child can and moves to sit by him.

“Are you alright Will?” she asks, gently touching his shoulder.

Will gives himself a little shake to purge the images in his inner eye.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” He gives her an only slightly strained smile.

“Will probably gets scared when he hears that nasty noise the creature makes because it killed Mr. Graham.” Jimmy states absently while kicking the ball back to Brian.

“Jimmy....” Brian hisses at him, letting the ball roll away.

“What?” Jimmy looks around with wide eyes “We're all thinking it.”

Brian glares once more at his brother, then runs off to fetch his ball. Will simply raises his eyebrow at Jimmy, who has the decency to flush a little in embarrassment and kick at the dirt grass under his feet. “Well it's true,” he says defiantly looking up straight at Will “And we all know Mr. Graham wasn't that much of a nice man, I'm glad you're with Mr. and Mrs. Crawford now....not meaning any disrespect to you're father, but....we all heard the rumor of what happened.....” Jimmy trails off.

“Perhaps Will doesn't want to be reminded anymore.” Molly comments softly.

“Hard to when you hear that noise right clear across the village.” Brian snips, having retrieved his ball. Molly nods sadly in agreement.

“I'm okay, really.” Will says. He gives Jimmy a friendly smile which the boy reciprocates. Will prefers Jimmy's way of saying things without thinking. Will had read in a book once 'value the person who speaks the truth, for they are few and far in between.' Will knows that for a fact to be true.

“Has any of you besides Will seen the creature?” Abigail asks, joining the group with the strips of leather in her hands. Will vaguely recognizes the beginnings of a dog lead. The rest of the group all shake their heads.

“Well I heard...”

The group all roll their eyes and give silent moans at the words. Frederica and Freddie, probably sensing gossip, skirts over to the group. It was Freddie that had spoke.

“I heard that they are testing what will hurt the creature and plan on not killing it for ages and ages.” He nods, while licking his lips.

“I heard that they are feeding it raw meat from the cow, and having someone cut themselves for human blood to keep it alive.” Frederica adds with a smile of smug knowledge.

“Mr. Mason would never.” Molly exclaims, shocked.

“Would too!” both twins state.

Will places his hand on Molly's in a show of support, a gesture that seems well appreciated and he does a little more often for that reason these days. He does notice with a bit of curiosity that while the rest of the group turn to scoff at the twins, Brian is looking at Will and Molly.

“Do you think that it truly is a creature not of this world?” Franklyn waddles up to ask. Brian comments dryly, “If it wasn't of this world then it wouldn't be alive here, Franklyn.” Franklyn seems to deflate at that.

“Well Miss. Alana did say that it is a rare creature, when we asked her about it in class.” Molly says.

“She also said that no one should ever go near it, chains or no.” Jimmy says. “So who wants to go and see it?” He adds straight after with a cheerful grin.

“No, thank you.” Molly replies.

“Besides, no one is allowed near there. I tried to get my father to sneak me in but even he won't let me.” Abigail says mournfully.

“We could get in.” The twins chimes.

“Could you?” Franklyn asks wide eyes and adoring.

“Could not!” Abigail snaps at the twins

“Could too!”

“Could not!”

Will absently pats Winston who has flopped down beside him with his head on Will's lap. His mind searching for what he knows about Mr. Mason's residence.

“I have seen the creature. It is evolving and changing under the purification my father is doing.” A lisped voice comments softly.

Everyone looks at Francis, Mr. Mason's son. A tall boy, and very strong and solid for his age. He speaks with a slight lisp due to a cleft in his upper lip, the result of an accident in a fall in the kitchen. Though Frederica swears that she has heard that Mr. Mason had done it to his own son when he was little, as a punishment for blaspheme against the holy light that one time. Either way, Francis is still a bully, and makes a habit of lording over the other children.

“What do you mean Francis?” Reba, the miller's daughter asks from over by the group of girls Molly had vacated from. Only Reba seems to be allowed to speak to Francis without permission. Will has overheard Francis telling his brother to never hurt her, because she is the 'sun'.

Francis gives a sneer “You all owe my father awe for the work he is doing. Through it, you are privy to a great enlightenment. He will vanquish the creature back to the depths and get stronger. He can protect this village better than the stupid vapid villagers here with their spears and torches. Or your dogs.” Francis turns his sneer towards Will and Winston. The latter who growls protectively, and has to be quietened by Will's firm hand.

Will glares back at Francis. “You forget that I have seen the Wendigo too. It seems old and every bit as ancient as your holy light. I'm sure it is much stronger than to die at the hands of us men.” Will is only half sure of his statement. Part of him says it to rankle Francis, the other part lies in dark hidden hope that the creature will survive Mr. Mason. If only so Will can see it alive again.

Francis puffs up like a dragon “You say its name which gives it power! You are a stupid little boy and know nothing! My father told me you should've been sent into town, to the holy orphanage to learn the true teachings and guidance. Perhaps then your stupid mind might grasp the meaning of your pitiful life.”

“And what IS that meaning Francis?” Will challenges.

“To serve and give yourself up to the holy light. My father will follow the way of a great becoming, you'll see it true!” Francis growls at the younger boy.

“You're father will fail.” Will's voice is soft but strong. Francis' eyes seem to glow red with pure anger at Will. Everyone in the group is tense, sensing yet another brawl about to happen between Francis and Will. Being the smaller of the two boys, Will always loses, and enda up eating dirt like the little 'piggie' he is. But Will is swift and smart and in the past two fights, has managed to hold his own enough to bruise and crack a nose. Their tension dissipates at the sound of another soft but rough voice.

“Leave be Francis. There is no pride in beating a weaker being.”

This voice belongs to Randall Verger. A tall boy much like his brother. Randall is much narrower, with a pointed look and needle eyes. He is wearing rich pelt furs, even in the warmer weather. All the village kids keep clear of Randall, Will included...well when the former allows him to be clear. Randall is usually much quieter than his brother, he is the one that will attack out of nowhere and has sent many village kids home to their folks with broken noses and limbs. Mr. Hobbs and Mr. Graham also often catches him sneaking around Wolf Trap Wood, killing small animals. But being the son of Mr. Mason, Randall is never punished, no matter how many fights he starts with the bigger boys, or times he is caught in the wood. Will was once friends with Randall, sort of. Randall had apparently seen a kindred spirit in Will, Will's link to the dogs, wolves, and the wood. But when Will made it clear he had no desire to become 'alpha dog' in the village with him, Randall turned on him and broke his leg. They have been enemies ever since.

Randall gives Will a sneer as he approaches. “Father spoke of how you fainted in fear from the little creature. WEAK!” he spits the last. Will bristles but says nothing, he was taught at a young age to not rankle a rabid animal.

“If I was there I would've taken it down myself. There is no pride in beating a creature in a cage. It should be made free to roam and begin the hunt. Only one can survive.”

“That is blaspheme Randall!” Francis turns on his brother. “What father is doing is better, the creature will rise from the ashes and be reborn into the holy light.”

Randall ignores his brother, “The ones killed by it were weak. Those underneath it deserve to be dead, even your pathetic father Will.” Randal murmurs softly, completely in contrast to his harsh words, which make it even more frustrating to hear.

“You could not have taken it Randall! You are no predator, it took a whole group of big male villagers and a special cross bow to take the creature down. What could you have possibly done?” Abigail bravely stands up. The silent deadly look Randall gives her, makes even the courageous Abigail step back. “I know how more than you.” Randal replies. “You are nothing but a broken dog begging your father for scraps.” Abigail's eyes flash with hurt. Irritation and righteous anger fill Will then, and he takes it upon himself to stand in front of Abigail, and look Randall straight in the eye.

“You are incomplete Randall.” Will has no idea where these words are coming from that come out of his mouth. It is as if the images flashing inside his brain are transmuted into words, and those words made truth by his voice. Even Randall's eyes widen as he sees something he has never seen before in the younger boy, something that he had sensed when they were younger but is peeking out now. The ability to see deep into ones very soul.

“You are human like the rest of us but it shames you. You want to burst free of your skin, but you can't. You can't become the black creature. You can't become his equal. You can't become more.”

“I can.” Randall hisses, quiet rage filling him at the truth in Will's words.

“Then go on. I dare you. Look into the eyes of a true predator and not flinch in fear like the rest of us. Look at it and see that you are the inferior one this time.”

Randall walks up to Will, his face mere centimeters away, both boys eyes burning, breath mingling. “You will see Will Graham. You underestimate me and what I will become. You don't know what I have been doing to prepare myself. You think you are a hunter? Then I DARE YOU. Go on. I dare you to face the creature again and know you are the one that is weak.” Randall's voice is a whisper. He steps back and looks around at the group and the other village children who have stopped to watch the interaction. “You will all see.” Randal whispers again, before turning and walking away. Francis gives one more sneer towards the group before following after his brother.

For a moment no one moves, and then a relieved sigh goes through the group. Molly presses a hand to her chest. “They always scare me so much” she says, moving up to Will and placing her other small comforting hand on his arm.

“Yeah, they definitely give me the heebie jeebies.” Jimmy agrees with a small shudder.

“They are just bullies. “ Abigail states tactfully.

“Maybe, but they still hurt when they beat on you.” Will comments. He reaches a hand out and pats Winston's fur, the dog has move loyally to his masters side when Will had confronted Randall. Will gives him a small piece of jerky he has hidden in his pocket as a treat.

“True. But only YOU are that stupid to keep standing up to them Will.” Jimmy says cheerfully.

“Let them do as they want.” Brian complains. “There is no reason to get into that lot. The whole family is insane.”

Agreement hums are made all around, as the group settles back into their activities before their spat with the Verger brothers. Molly is showing Franklyn with great patience, how to make flower chains. Brain and Jimmy continue playing ball. Only Abigail senses something is up with Will, who is patting Winston again but has his eyes trained on where Randall and Francis have gone in the direction back to their home.

“Will?” Abigail calls.

“Hmmmm?” Will answers absently.

“You're not going to take his dare are you? Try and go see the black creature?”

“You can't Will!” Molly cries, moving up to sit by him again, and this time places both hands on his, as if she can restrain him herself. Franklyn is looking at him in both parts, awe and fear.

“Not even Will is that stupid.” Jimmy comments.

“He wouldn't even make it two steps near anyways.” Brian adds.

But Will is indeed that stupid, and this would not be a very long story if Will had let a simple thing such as Mr. Mason's guards, deter him from the seed of impulse that has now grown inside him.

“Promise me Will!” Molly says, shaking Will's arm. “Promise me you won't go near that dangerous thing!”

Will shakes himself from his inner mind, to instead focus on Molly, giving her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. He places his hand on top of hers. “I promise Molly.” Looking at Will carefully to see any signs of deception, Will is saved by Winston pushing his snout in between the two of them with a snuffle, and licking at Molly's face, making the young girl giggle helplessly. The two rain affection on the happy dog and the topic of Will's dare is forgotten. Only Abigail keeps a close eye on Will for the hour they are together before they all disperse for supper.

Later that night, if Mr. and Mrs. Crawford notice that Will is being far to quiet even for him at supper, they pay no heed. They are already adapting to Will's odd behavior, the boy seeming in daydream world more often than not since his fathers death. That night, Will lies in his cot as thoughts, as always, swirl in his mind. Dominating everything is the remembered moment between him and the black creature. Will knows what he has to do, he knows where his mind and everything in him is pointing to. It is no coincidence that it is WILL who was drawn to Wood Trap Wood even after The Wall was built, it was WILL who met the little white creature first and befriended it, and it was WILL who for some unknown reason, had tried to hinder his father and stop the attack on the white and black creatures. It was also WILL who has had that moment with the black creature. He remembers it's eyes. It hadn't seemed rage filled when it had looked at Will, more....curious... Will realizes in an epiphany.

Will has lied to Molly. Though he feels no guilt over it, he sees it as merely giving her peace of mind. He will also not tell anyone, especially Mr. and Mrs. Crawford. He can't even tell Abigail of his plans. Plus, he adds in a bit of dark humor, he has been dared.

There is nothing left for Will in Wolf Trap Wood anymore.

He won't return to his spot in The Wall.

Will is going to sneak into the Verger household.

Will is going to go see the black creature again.

 

And so he does....

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Omg, writing in third person present almost did my head in. But I found writing in the normal past tense made the story too factual, and didn't give the emotional surreal feeling I wanted in this story. I did the best I could and consider it a challenge. It's a bit awkward, but I hope people like the different style.  
> I need also mention that I have nothing against faith or religion. I have made Mr. Mason's faith general and imagined. This is more of the individual's actions and wrongly using religion as an excuse.  
> The chapters will be long so it will be some time before the next will be out. My apologies. I will try my best.


End file.
